


Fall Away

by ReedBalloon



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2018-10-18 12:18:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10616766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReedBalloon/pseuds/ReedBalloon
Summary: Lexa is a sailor and Clarke is a lawyer. Somewhere, between jobs and secrets and families, they become something together.





	1. Chapter 1

Clarke was fuming. She had never been in trouble with the police in her life. Not through her father letting her drive his car when she was fourteen, or the underage drinking in law school, not even the small bit of breaking and entering she had done over the years.

But now she was waiting to the side, arms crossed, as the police took statements from a man who had had a rock thrown at his car just as Clarke had been heading into her apartment building. And she knew that she was going to have to play the governor’s daughter card, and she hated it.

She shot another glare upwards. Lexa Woods was sitting on her balcony, legs dangling, and had the audacity to smirk when Clarke caught her eyes. She knew it was her who threw the rock, but also knew she had no proof.

So it was left to being the governor’s daughter and an intern a prestigious law firm.

The statement was done and the officers approached her, and when she introduced herself she saw the familiar that passed between the two of them, and then the man was told there wasn’t enough evidence and they were sorry but were sure his insurance would cover it.

Clarke quickly went into her building, shooting another glare at Woods as she did so, before the man could yell at her again.

//

She saw Lexa Woods next three days later in the laundry room. She shot her another glare, the kind of glare that had served her well at law school but only made Lexa roll her eyes.

“If you stop glaring at me like I tried to get you accused of murder, that would be great,” she said, throwing her clothes into a machine.

“You framed me for throwing a rock at a car.”

“First of all, you have no evidence it was me.” Lexa slammed the machine closed and turned around, smirking. “Second of all, it wasn’t a rock, it was a pebble from my fish tank. And third of all, I was purposefully after that car, and you just happened to be unfortunate.”

“Why are you going round throwing rocks at cars?”

Lexa shrugged. “I don’t like Audis. Anyway, you got off, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“And it wouldn’t have mattered if you did.”

Lexa sounded bitter, and Clarke narrowed her eyes. She had been made to stay at the firm two hours longer than promised, had forgot to buy milk, and had returned home to discover she was greatly lacking in clean underwear so had been forced to climb the three floors down to the laundry room. Basically, she was in the mood for an argument.

“And what’s that supposed to mean.”

“You know exactly what it means. You throw around your name and it solves every problem.”

“Why do you care?”

“Do you think if I told people about my mother the bakery owner I would get preferential treatment?”

“I don’t tell anyone anything. My name isn’t my fault.”

“Or maybe if I told them about the boat I sail and all the fish I catch.”

“You’ve had a problem with me since I moved in.”

Two years ago Clarke had tried to introduce herself to the girl who lived below her, and had received a dirty look and a door slammed in her face in return. Since then, interactions had been few and uncordial.

“We’ve never really spoken since you moved in.”

“You don’t think I haven’t noticed the looks and the comments.”

“Comments?”

“To your friends. Every time I walk by. I don’t know what you’re problem is, but you’ve been taking it out on me for the past two years.” Lexa was quiet, and Clarke was discovering the therapeutic properties of yelling at someone in a laundry room. “So back off, Lexa. Whatever issues you’ve got aren’t my fault, so take your prejudice and stick it, okay.”

Someone, somewhere, must have wanted Clarke to make an exit, because at that moment the dryer finished and she was able to throw her clothes into her hamper and storm out, slamming the door for good measure, leaving a quiet and shocked Lexa behind.

//

No one knocked on her door past eight, not if she had any say in it, warning her friends that she wasn’t one for surprise visits and will send them away. So when her door went at eight thirty Clarke heaved a sigh, and hoped it wasn’t Raven trying to make her go anywhere or do anything with anyone.

There was something wrapped in aluminium foil outside her door, and a note stuck on the top. Her first thought was bomb, but then she composed herself and figured bombs didn’t smell of lemon.

She picked it up and read the note.

_Sorry. What you screamed dramatically at me was right. Bake for 20 minutes in the foil. If you add salt I will sense it._

Clarke opened the foil to find some fish, covered in some herbs and with lemons. She couldn’t help but laugh.

//

Lexa loved her balcony. She liked her apartment, and she enjoyed her boat, but she adored her balcony. She had a view across the harbour, of the boats and ships, and could see the pier that jutted out. She could see her own boat, her father’s boat, lined up with the rest.

Mornings with her legs dangling through the rails and with her strongest cup of coffee made up nicely for late nights.

The door to the building opened and Clarke walked out. She began to walk her normal way into the city, but stopped when Lexa called.

“Hey, Griffin.” Clarke stopped and looked up at her warily, but there was a small flash of amusement in her eyes. It made Lexa smile. “Did you eat the fish?”

“Half expected it to be poisoned, but I figured if it was you wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of marinating it.”

“It was cumin and paprika.”

“It was good.”

“It was an apology.”

“A strange apology. Most people use flowers or chocolates.”

“I thought that was romance.”

“It can work both ways. I didn’t add salt, by the way.”

“Thank god.”

“It was good.” Lexa nodded and smiled. Clarke took in her appearance, old clothes and sunglasses and bottled lining the balcony. “Late night?”

Lexa nodded. “Did the music keep you up?”

“The music always keeps me up.”

“Do I need to marinate another apology fish?”

Clarke laughed and Lexa grinned. She’s heard it before, through her ceiling, but it sounded a lot better when she was the cause. “I have to go.”

“Have a good day helping the scum of the earth.”

“Have a good day suffocating innocent marine animals.”

“I’m off today.”

“The fish will be thankful.”

Lexa grinned, and Clarke walked to work, marvelling that it was the first time she had left a conversation with Lexa Woods wearing a smile.

//

She was still on her balcony when Clarke returned home nine hours later, one leg dangling and the other bent and being used to prop up a book.

“Have you moved?” she asked.

Lexa looked up from her book and smiled when she saw Clarke. She held up a plate of pasta. “This didn’t walk from the kitchen itself. How was your day? Did you devour the souls of the poor?”

“We were all out, so had to make do with the moderately wealthy. Hopefully getting a new delivery of freshly redundant tomorrow though.”

Lexa grinned, delighted with the discovery that Clarke Griffin was funny. “What’s in the bag?”

“Dinner.”

“Let me guess, microwavable meal for one?”

“I’ll let you into a secret, sometimes they’re for two and I eat it all.”

Lexa laughed. “That’s not a meal.”

“You could make me more apology fish.”

“I don’t have anything to apologise for.”

“I’m sure there will be something. Pre-apology fish.”

Lexa grinned. “I’ll consider it.”

//

Three days later Clarke opened the door to find a foil wrapped piece of salmon.

_For whatever it is I do next_ , said the note.

//

“What do you put the fish with?” Lexa asked as she passed Clarke in the hallway.

“Huh.” Clarke looked up from her phone. Lexa was in a beanie and long boots. It was like she was going out of her way to dress like a sailor.

“The fish,” Lexa clarified. “What do you eat it with?”

“Knife and fork.”

“I like it when you’re funny.”

“I boil potatoes.”

“And.”

“And?”

Lexa looked horrified. “You just boil them?”

“Yes.”

“In water?”

“Usually.”

“Seasoning.”

“Does butter count?”

She looked so hurt, Clarke found it funny when she barged past shaking her head.

//

“Vegetables,” a voice said from above her. Clarke looked up to see Lexa, and only had a second to react as a Tupperware of green beans, broccoli, and carrots was dropped to her. “And season your goddamn potatoes.”

//

Giggling reached Lexa as she climbed the stairs to her apartment. It was late and she was tired, and wasn’t in the mood for giggling.

She reached her floor to see Clarke, and was about to tease her for being out late and obviously drunk, when she saw that she was entangled with a blond haired boy, pulling him up the stairs. He wrapped his arm around her, said something in her ear which made her giggle again, and then they were kissing.

Lexa waited until they had gone up the stairs, and then headed to her own apartment, ignoring the uneasiness in her stomach that felt almost too much like jealousy.

//

Lexa was gently banging her head against her door when Clarke climbed the stairs. She paused a moment to watch, head tilted in confusion.

“Lexa?” she said. The steady rhythm of banging didn’t cease. “Everything okay?” Lexa was soaked, a small puddle appearing where she stood. It wasn’t raining, so Clarke could only guess at one thing. “Did you fall in?” She desperately tried to keep a smile out of her voice, but couldn’t help it when Lexa let out a long groan.

“Maybe.”

“How?”

“Tripped.”

“Are you okay?”

“Cold.”

“Why don’t you go in?”

“I lost my key.”

She turned around and leant back against the door. She looked utterly miserable. Clarke smiled gently at her. “So you thought the solution was to stand with your head against the door?”

“I was thinking of slumping in despair at some point.”

“Did you lose your key when you fell in?”

“I’m offended by how amused this is making you.”

“Did you call a locksmith?”

“No, Clarke, my dumb sailor brain didn’t think of that like your smart lawyer brain.”

“Don’t be a bitch.”

“Yes I called a locksmith. He said two hours.”

“Want to wait in my apartment?”

“No.”

“Okay. Goodnight.” Clarke started to walk up the stairs, and smiled slightly as Lexa caught up to her a moment later, huffing.

“You’re meant to insist,” she complained.

“You’re standing outside until I get you a towel.”

//

“Don’t sit down.” Clarke threw a messy pile of magazines from the coffee table into an open draw and shoved it closed. “And why are wearing a beanie when it’s soaked?” A pile of dishes was shoved into the sink. “I’ll get you something dry.” Coats were thrown into a closet.

“I can see you trying to clean.” Lexa accepted the towel and clothes handed to her.

“I don’t have people over much,” Clarke admitted sheepishly. Lexa remembered a blond haired boy and giggling, and didn’t answer. “Bedrooms that way.” Lexa blinked at her. “For you to get changed.”

“Right.” She hurried into the bedroom, peeling off wet clothes and towelling herself down quickly. She wouldn’t admit it to Clarke, but falling off the boat had scared her. She had been there when her father had fallen in, once, and then had to watch as he got water pumped from his lungs.

She pulled on Clarke’s dry hoodie and sweatpants and found the living room a lot cleaner than she had when she left it.

“Where should I…” Lexa held up her wet clothes, and Clarke gave her a plastic bag to stuff them in.

“Feel better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Do you want some food?”

“Are you cooking?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. But I took some leftovers from my friend’s, so you’re in luck.”

She took some Tupperware from the fridge and put it in the microwave. Lexa drifted over to a mantelpiece full of pictures. She saw Clarke at various stages of her life, with a girl she recognised from visiting sometimes, a younger Clarke with her arms circling a cute dark haired boy, both beaming, and various people she assumed were family or friends. One photo, pride of place in the centre, was of Clarke very young, held in the arms of a tall smiling man, with her mother beside them both, laughing.

“That was the summer before he died.” Clarke’s voice was small and sad, a far cry from her usual, and it pulled at something deep in Lexa.

“You all look happy.”

“We were.” The microwave sounded and Clarke pulled the casserole out, dishing it up into two bowls. Lexa allowed her to be quiet for a moment. “That sounds like we weren’t after he died. You know he died, right. Of course you do, everyone does.” Another moment of silence. Clarke’s brow was furrowed and Lexa really wished she would stop speaking in the tone. “We were happy, even after he died, but it was a different kind of happy.”

“I understand.”

Clarke nodded. She handed Lexa a bowl and a fork, and they took seats on the opposite end of the kitchen counter.

“Have you seen my mother, on tv and stuff?”

Lexa nodded. “Everyone’s seen her on tv and stuff.”

“She’s intense. She’s kind and she’s loving, but she’s intense.”

“My mom’s the same. I think it’s a mother thing.”

“She works in a bakery, right? I remember your scathing comments from a few months ago.”

Lexa grinned. The tone was lighter, not yet gone, but still better. “She owns it, actually. It was my grandparents, she used to work there, and it’s how my parents met. My dad sailed, and always got his breakfast there. He always said it was my mom’s fault he got fat, for being so beautiful.” She had slipped up and used past tense, but if Clarke noticed she didn’t say anything, just laughed as Lexa grinned. “He taught me to fish and to sail. It’s his boat I use now. Bellamy, he’s my partner that I sail with, his dad and mine would take us out with them.”

“That sounds nice.”

Lexa nodded and smiled. “Have you ever been sailing?”

“No.”

“I’ll take you one day.”

“Will you fall in?”

“You know you never talk about all the times I don’t fall in.”

//

The water was dark and heavy, and no matter how much Lexa clawed it wouldn’t release her. The surface was lost, and her eyes were being burnt by the salt as she desperately tried to see around her. Her lungs hurt and when she gasped she could feel them being filled with water. Even screaming was impossible. Just as her mind faded and her lungs burned, she saw a body float by, and screamed even louder when her father’s lifeless eyes locked onto hers.

Lexa shot up. She abruptly stopped screaming and started gasping for breath, diving across the bed in search of the lamp. Light filled the room, and Lexa fought to get her breathing under control.

Her forehead and neck was damp with sweat, and when she clambered out to her balcony she was chilled by the cold air and grabbed a hoodie to pull on.

She sat and dangled her legs, barely able to see the harbour in the darkness but comforted that it was there. She fell asleep to the light noise of the city, the reassurance of the boats, and the smell of the hoodie she later realised was Clarke’s.

//

Through the glare of the sun, Clarke saw a figure of Lexa’s balcony, and got out a book, only to get closer to discover the figure wasn’t her neighbour. She was smoking a cigarette, dark skinned and very pretty, and Clarke suddenly felt ridiculous, holding a book and looking up at her after finishing her errands surprisingly early on her day off.

“Hi.” The girl had a warm smile and a slight accent, and Clarke recognised her from coming home with Lexa sometimes. “You’re the upstairs neighbour, right?”

Clarke nodded. “Yeah.”

“Lexa said you guys were friends now.”

“We are?”

The girl laughed lightly. “I’ll spare her feelings by not telling her you said that. I hear you yelled at her?”

The conversation wasn’t helping Clarke’s embarrassment. “A little.”

“No, don’t sound so sheepish. More people should yell at her.”

“Is she around?”

“She’s showering.”

“I got her…” She held up the book awkwardly. “I thought she’d like…”

The girl tilted her head. “Throw it up. I promise to catch it.” She did, and smiled when she saw the title. “I’m Costia, but the way.”

“Clarke.”

“I know.”

Clarke didn’t know what to read into the smile. “Have a good afternoon.”

“Bye, Clarke.”

//

Lexa came out the shower and a book was thrown to her. She caught it one handed, and Costia mock pouted from the balcony door.

“I was hoping you’d drop the towel.”

“With these reflexes? Did you buy me a book?”

“Clarke did.”

“She was here?”

Costia jutted her head the balcony. “Very Romeo and Juliet,” she smiled.

“Quiet.” Lexa flicked through the book.

“Should I be jealous?”

“Yes.”

Costia was smiling, head titled and looking at her thoughtfully. “I told you to talk to her a year ago.”

“You know why I didn’t.”

“She’s pretty.” Costia was watching her knowingly.

“Quiet.”

“You like pretty girls.”

“Quickly going off you though.”

“Lexa.”

“Drop it, Cos.”

There was a pause as they both looked at each other challengingly. Then Costia smiled. “Only if you drop it first.”

Lexa laughed, and the towel hit the floor.

//

Lexa was reading on the balcony again when Clarke arrived home, and she smiled when she saw what it was.

“Do you like the book?” Clarke said, making Lexa jump.

“I do,” Lexa smiled. “Thank you.”

“I hear we’re friends now.”

“Where’d you get that?”

“Your…” Clarke didn’t know what the pretty girl with the pretty accent was to Lexa, “The stranger on your balcony told me.”

“That traitor.”

“I won’t tell anyone else.”

“She’s smug about it. Always telling me to talk to you.”

“So you’ve been purposefully avoiding me for all this time?”

Lexa looked down at her, like she was trying to work something out. Finally, she just shrugged. “Are you free later?”

“Depends.”

Lexa grinned. “On?”

“Whether what you’re about to suggest is better than The Good Wife.”

“Dinner?”

“Is it fish?”

“I feel like you’re making fun of me.”

//

Lexa had only gone up to return the hoodie. She’s had it for a month, since she had fallen in, and felt it was time to give it back.

She’d heard Clarke come home and head up the stairs, following her quickly, only to catch a view through her front door before it closed of Clarke sobbing, sinking down onto the floor.

Lexa approached the door slowly, still clinging the hoodie, wondering what to do. She was aware she had just saw something she wasn’t meant to see, even if they were apparent friends now. Leaning with her hands against the door, Lexa rapped on it gently with her finger tips.

“Clarke,” she said carefully. “Are you there?” There was silence, and Lexa really wanted to see Clarke’s face so she could rid herself on the image of her neighbour tearstained and devastated. “I saw… Can you let me in?”

Another long beat of silence. Lexa stayed with her fingers pressed. “Go away.” The reply was abrupt and choked. Lexa was invading, she knew this, but couldn’t in all good conscience just walk away.

“Can I help?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not, Clarke.”

“Go away.” It was firmer this time.

“Okay,” she said finally, “I will.” She paused, leaning her forehead against the door. “Are you safe?”

The reply took far too long for Lexa’s liking. “Yes.”

“Clarke.”

“I am.”

“Okay. I’ll go. I’m downstairs, though. If you need me.” Lexa pushed herself from the door. She rapped on it gently, twice, before leaving.

//

The knocking on the door wasn’t ceasing, and Clarke was resigning herself to having to leave her bed and get it. She’s had a long week, found Niylah at a bar, and hadn’t returned home until much later than she expected. She despised whoever was knocking.

“You look terrible,” was Lexa’s comment when the door was opened.

Clarke scowled, deeply regretting any form of friendship they’d built that led to this moment. “It’s four.”

“I know.”

“In the morning.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to take you sailing. Now hurry and put on some warm clothes otherwise we’re going to miss it.”

“Miss what?”

“You’re wasting time. I got you coffee.”

“Always lead with the coffee.”

“And a bacon sandwich.”

“Scratch the coffee, lead with bacon.”

//

Warm clothes hadn’t covered it. Lexa produced an extra coat, claiming she had expected Clarke to need it, and Clarke grumbled while taking it. It was now four thirty, and Clarke was remembering, with fond nostalgia, that time she was in bed half an hour ago.

The cold air woke her up. Lexa led her towards the harbour, hugging her own coffee to her.

“I said I’d take you sailing.”

“You said it in the summer time. It’s autumn now.”

“Autumn is practically summer.”

“Autumn is winter dressed up.”

Lexa laughed. They passed the boat the she usually sailed, but Lexa didn’t slow down.

“Isn’t that yours?” Clarke asked.

“For fishing. I’m taking you sailing.”

The boat they stopped at was fairly small, and Clarke grinned widely when she saw a tree and the tattoo design Lexa has on her arm painted on the side.  _Woods_  was written below it in cursive.

Lexa rolled her eyes when she saw what Clarke was looking at. “My dad decided we needed a family crest.”

“It’s nice.”

“You’re laughing.”

“You got it tattooed.”

“Not the tree.”

“You got it tattooed.”

Lexa shrugged. “My family,” was her only explanation. Clarke grinned as she accepted Lexa’s help in getting on the boat. “He used to take us out sailing a lot, me and my siblings. The boats small and he’s a big man, so we never once got to go out, all of us together.”

“How many siblings do you have?”

Lexa pushed them from the side. “Five.”

“Five?”

“Four brothers, one sister.”

“Wow.”

“I say this boats mine, but I suppose it’s ours. Except none of them had any sea legs, as my dad said. The older ones moved away, the younger ones stayed at home, and I moved over here where my dad used to sail.”

They drifted out of the harbour. The morning was still fairly dark, but light enough to see ahead of them, and Lexa was watching the water and her memories with wonder.

“The suns going to rise,” she said, looking at Clarke. She handed her a wrapped sandwich.

“Okay.”

“Pay attention to it,” Lexa smiled.

“Tell me about your family.”

She beamed, and Clarke was grateful she got dragged out of bed at four in the morning if only so she could see Lexa look so happy at the mere mention of her family.

“Anya, Lincoln, and Ash are older. The twins are younger, Aden and Peter. My parents tried to have kids for a while but couldn’t, so they adopted Ash and Anya when they were kids. Ash was older, and rebellious, while Anya was just a terror." Lexa grinned again. “Lincoln was a baby when they adopted him. Then they got pregnant with me. Then fifteen years later with the twins.”

“Wow.”

“They went from not being able to have children to having six of them.”

“Six is a lot.”

“Now Anya and Ash have kids of their own.”

“You’re an aunt?”

Lexa nodded, her smile still not falling. “Ash’s twin girls and Anya’s little boy.”

“Nieces and nephews.”

“They’re beautiful, Clarke.”

“I bet you spoil them.”

“Terribly.”

Clarke laughed. If it was possible, it seemed like Lexa would grin even wider. “Watch the sunset,” Clarke teased.

They both settled down as the first rays of the sun lit across the water. “Do you see this every day?” Clarke asked in wonder.

“Most days.”

“It’s incredible.”

“Makes up for the early morning?”

“Definitely.”

They were quiet for a bit longer, enjoying the colours and the water and Clarke didn’t feel that cold anymore.

“You’re an only child, right?” Lexa said, breaking the silence.

“How did you guess?”

“Your wonder at me having nieces and nephews.”

“I always wanted nieces and nephews.”

“Maybe your future partner will have some you can dote on.”

“I hope so.”

Quiet washed over them again, unoppressive and peaceful. They ate their sandwiches and watched the sun as it rose.

“Can I ask you something?” said Clarke quietly.

“I suppose.”

“It’s kind of personal.”

“I’m in a sharing mood.”

“Your father.” Lexa noticeably tensed. Clarke watched carefully for any signs she should stop, but Lexa just stared ahead. “You do what I used to do. Talk in the past tense, not necessarily by accident, but like it surprised me. Except you switch tenses.”

Lexa nodded slowly. “He isn’t dead.”

“Okay.”

“He’s in prison.”

“Oh.”

“For life.”

“Oh.”

“He killed someone.”

“Oh.”

Lexa glanced over and smiled wryly. “You weren’t expecting that.”

“No,” Clarke admitted.

“My father is a very kind and very good man. And some not kind and not good men tried to use his boat as a way to smuggle things that shouldn’t be smuggled. He refused, and things turned violent, and my dad is not good in a fight. But even very kind men become good in fights when their family is threatened. He hit one of them with crowbar, repeatedly, when they told him he knew where my little brothers went to school.”

“But if they attacked him, if they threatened him, why did he get life?”

Lexa was quiet for so long Clarke wasn’t sure she was going to answer. Finally she turned to Clarke, seemingly searching her face for something, something she must have found because she carried on speaking. “We don’t know. The judge, maybe she was trying to make a name for herself, maybe she felt like my father deserved life, maybe she knew something we didn’t. But she made the ruling and now my dad will die in prison.”

“Lexa.” Clarke didn’t know what to say. She reached over and hooked her gloved fingers with Lexa’s.

“I know what he did was wrong. But he was a good man.” She was looking at Clarke earnestly, begging her to believe her.

“He sounds like he was.”

“We visit him, sometimes. He doesn’t always like us to. Doesn’t like us to see him like that. But I write. And I sail. And I catch fish with Bellamy.”

Clarke nodded. “Thank you for telling me.”

Lexa smiled. The light had returned to her eyes, the sadness not gone, but lifted slightly. She didn’t let go of Lexa’s hand for the rest of the trip. Finally, the sun was getting too high and Clarke sighed.

“You need to get to work,” Lexa guessed.

Clarke nodded sadly. “As much as I would love to spend my day in a boat, some of us have actual jobs to do,” she joked.

“I hope being tired doesn’t interfere with the devils work.”

“If someone goes to jail today it’s your fault.”

“You’re an intern.”

“If a file gets put in the wrong cabinet today it’s your fault.”

They reached the harbour and Lexa helped Clarke out. Bellamy was waiting for them, leaning against the fence, trying to look disapproving but not hiding a smile.

“We have a job to do, Lexa,” he said, “Hi, Clarke.”

“Hi, Bellamy.”

“Explain yourself, Woods.”

Lexa just grinned. “I’ll be there in a second, Bell.”

“Whatever. Clarke, we still on for the weekend?”

“Of course.”

“Sweet, see you then. Lex, hurry.”

Lexa watched Bellamy walk away, frowning. “What’s the weekend?” she said accusatorily.

“I said I’d paint the nursery of one of his friends.”

“Who?”

“John, I think he said.”

“Urg, Murphy.” But she said it with a small smile. “How he got someone to have a child with him, never mind her not have horns, I’ll never know. Why didn’t I know about this plan?”

“Why didn’t I know you like children?”

“I never said I liked children.”

“You’re face says otherwise.” Lexa schooled her expression into the neutral look. “And I don’t run every plan I have by you.”

“But you can’t go round spending time with my friends. They’re bound to like you more than me.”

Clarke laughed and nudged her, walking back towards their building. “I’ll try and be extremely unpleasant.”

“If you could.”

Lexa watched her go for as long as she was allowed to before Bellamy threw a bucket at her.

 


	2. Chapter 2

It was inevitable, Lexa supposed, that Clarke would one day meet Anya. But she thought she had time. She would get her sister in and out of her apartment and Clarke would be none the wiser. But Clarke was returning early, and she and Anya were on the balcony, and everything good in Lexa’s world suddenly seemed far away.

Anya was following her eye line to where Clarke was heading towards them, and she was smirking.

Clarke looked up at them as she approached, frowning slightly, confused as to why Lexa looked terrified and the woman next to her, whose features were mainly comprised of cheekbones, looked thrilled.

“Hi, Clarke.” She looked dangerous, and a handful, and Clarke wondered if this was the sister.

“Hello.” She glanced at Lexa, whose eyes were turned to the sky and seemed to be praying.

“I’m Anya.”

“Nice to meet you. You okay there, Lex.”

“Yes why do you ask?”

“You look pale, baby sis.”

Lexa looked imploringly at Anya. “Please,” she whispered. Anya just laughed.

“So I hear my sister removed the telephone pole from the ass and finally talked to you.”

“Settle a debate. Has she been ignoring me all these years?”

“Absolutely.”

“Knew it.”

“Please,” Lexa said again, weakly, “Both of you.”

Clarke laughed. “Lexa never said you were visiting.”

“She gets embarrassed easily.”

“That’s because you always embarrass me.”

“Hush, tiny child.”

Lexa kicked out, and Anya laughed while batting it away. “Here for the week,” she told Clarke.

“Where from?”

“Germany.”

“Anya’s a big shot Berlin museum curator.” Lexa was still trying, to no avail, to kick Anya.

“That’s amazing.”

Anya shrugged. She grabbed Lexa’s foot and twisted, causing her sister to squeak and pull away. She smirked down at Clarke again. “You should come to dinner.”

Clarke saw Lexa’s eyes widen and took pity. “That’s okay. I’m having a friend over.”

“Bring them.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Is it Raven?” asked Lexa. Clarke nodded. “That’s okay, bring her.”

“You want Raven there?”

“Last week she glared at me and called me something which I can only assume was terrible in Spanish.”

“I like her already,” Anya chipped in.

“So I think we’re friends now,” continued Lexa. Her eyes softened as she looked at Clarke. “Come to dinner.”

“Only if you’re sure.”

“Absolutely.”

“What are we having?” Clarke grinned and Anya laughed.

“I take back the offer.”

“It’s chicken.”

“Thank god. I’ll see you later then.”

“At seven.”

“Okay. Bye.”

Anya saluted and Lexa waved, then kicked her sister, this time succeeding. Anya only laughed as she rubbed her thigh.

“Was that necessary?” Lexa asked.

“Absolutely.”

“How did you even know about her?”

“Costia told me.”

“That terrible gossip.”

“She’s pretty.”

“I know.”

“You like pretty.”

“Back off or I’m buying Jacob a drum set for Christmas.”

“He’s seven months.”

“He’ll grow into it.”

“You like her.”

“You know who her mother is, right.”

Anya softened slightly. “Don’t tell me that’s what stopping you.”

“No. But it’s complicated, don’t you think.”

“Does she know who her mother is?”

“I don’t think telling someone that their mother sent your father to prison usually works out well.”

“She’ll find out eventually.”

“Maybe.”

“You took her out on the boat, Lexa.”

“Please stop talking to Costia.”

“You’ve only ever taken Bellamy and Costia out on that boat.”

“I know.”

“Our dad’s boat. That means something, Lex.”

“Drum kit, Anya. With a matching French horn.”

Anya held up her hands in mock defeat. “Fine. Live in denial. I, for one, am really looking forward to dinner.”

Lexa groaned and leaned back.

//

Knocking on Clarke’s door dragged her away from the canvas. There was a time, many months ago, when painting had been hard. When work had been as escape from a blank canvas that taunted her. Now she had to rip herself away from the colours that she couldn’t seem to get out fast enough.

Lexa was at the door. She smiled broadly at the paint stains on Clarke’s face.

“I want to invite you to a party,” she said.

“Hello.” Clarke stepped back, “Come in.”

“I can’t stay long. I’m having dinner with Anya.”

“I’m painting.”

“I can see.”

“Do you like it?”

Lexa took the time to look at the painting, as she always did, before nodding. “It’s beautiful. You really like trees these days.”

Clarke grinned. “You said something about a party?”

“Yes.” Lexa handed Clarke a rag to wipe her hands on. “My brothers are coming down, as it’s always hard to get Anya to stay in the country. I was wondering if you wanted to come.”

“Anya doesn’t mind?”

“She insisted. Provided you bring Raven. She’s very taken.”

“Raven’s in love.”

“Have you told her she has a husband and a seven month old to compete with?”

“She’s up for the challenge.”

Lexa laughed. “Will you come?”

“Of course. Is it all your brothers?”

“Just Lincoln and Ash. Ash will bring his wife and girls.” Lexa smiled at the thought of her nieces. Clarke found Lexa’s newfound affection for children extremely endearing. “And Bellamy and his sister, Octavia. Have you met her?”

“Briefly.”

“She’s dating Lincoln. You’ll get to witness the game where Octavia sees how much PDA she can get away with before Bellamy snaps.”

“I look forward to it.”

//

Lexa’s brother was big, and jovial, and Lincoln made it through five seconds of intimidating staring before he broke into a huge grin. He had been there for some time before Clarke arrived, Raven in tow, and had welcomed them into Lexa’s apartment with smiles and drinks.

The Blake’s were there, Octavia draped across Lincoln with Bellamy glaring at them from where he was talking to Lexa by the food. Raven split from her, drifting over to Anya with a grin, and Clarke handed Lexa a bottle wine.

“Hi.” She inspected the bottle like she knew what she was looking for.

“It’s alcoholic,” Clarke assured her.

“Oh good. Do you want some food? Bellamy thought we needed a medieval feast.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes. “It’s sausage rolls and sandwiches. Last time we did this you ordered a whole bunch of Chinese food and threw some chopsticks at everyone.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“I’m not doing this again.” Bellamy walked over to where Lincoln and Octavia were staring moony eyes at one another, thrusting a plate of food at his sister.

Clarke laughed, and Lexa smiled. “Thanks for the wine.”

“Thanks for the invite.”

“You’re saying that now but wait until the rest arrive.”

//

Ash was tall and bearded, and his wife Lola was small and lovely. His daughters burst into the room, cutting off all conversation, and then they tackled Lexa.

They took some time to great the others, politely saying hello to Clarke and Raven when prompted, but then returned to Lexa again. She was dragged away, victim of her nieces, and Clarke settled into a conversation with Octavia, who she had never really spoken to before but was growing extremely fond of. Soon the natural affection she had for Lincoln even began to make her queasy, and she wandered over to where Lexa was getting her nails painted by two enthusiastic girls.

“Having fun?” she asked, looking down at where Lexa sat, cross legged, the girls holding a hand each.

“I’m getting a makeover.”

“I can see.”

“Stop moving.” Olivia, who wore green, looked at her seriously.

“I’m not,” Lexa argued.

“Am too.” Charlie wore red.

“Am not.”

“You are, Lex.”

Lexa gasped up at Clarke. “Traitor.”

Clarke laughed and looked at the girls. “Can I sit down?” They looked at each other, considering it, before nodding. “I’m Clarke.” She held out her hand for them to shake, and received nail varnish stains for her trouble.

“You’re pretty,” she was told by Olivia, whose sister nodded in agreement. Clarke laughed awkwardly, not sure how to respond when a five year old calls you pretty, but was saved from the trouble when the girl then turned to Lexa and informed her, “You like pretty.”

Lexa blushed and Clarke pressed her lips together to stop from laughing.

“Who told you that?” said Lexa.

“Daddy says it.”

“Your daddy needs to keep his mouth shut.”

“Do you not like Clarke?” Charlie sounded offended on Clarke’s behalf.

Lexa smiled slyly. “Do you want to know a secret?” They nodded happily. She leant in and whispered something to them that Clarke couldn’t hear, but made them both squeal and jump up. Lexa laughed as they bounded away to their mother.

“What did you tell them?” Clarke picked up the abandoned nail varnish and took one of Lexa’s hands. “Can’t leave them half finished,” she explained at Lexa’s confused look. “You’ll look ridiculous.”

Lexa looked down at her hands, which had more varnish on than the nails did. “Wouldn’t want that.”

“What did you tell them?”

“Did you not hear me say it was a secret?”

Lexa was smirking, obviously happy with herself. Clarke left a smear of nail varnish on her cheek as punishment.

//

They were laughing, which worried Lexa greatly. Clarke was sitting with her older siblings and laughing.

She wandered over, only for the laughing to cut off abruptly and receive four smirks.

“What’s so funny?” she asked suspiciously.

“Just chatting.” Anya’s smile suggested they weren’t just chatting. “Did you really throw a rock at a car and let your neighbour take the blame.”

Lexa huffed. “It was a pebble.”

“Why are you throwing rocks at cars?” Lincoln asked.

“Pebbles.”

“Lexa.”

“It was Robertson.”

A chorus of ‘ahs’ made Clarke frown. “Who’s Robertson?”

“He used to give dad grief. Didn’t want a fishing boat next to his prized sailboat,” Ash told her. “So dad got his mates to surround it until Robertson moved it.”

“So petty,” Anya said with a large smile. “So you decided to break his window?”

“I was in a bad mood and cleaning my fish tank.”

“And it was two windows,” Clarke said. “Went through the one side and into the windscreen.”

Her brothers all looked equally impressed by their little sister’s aim.

“Well I for one am glad she got over herself and talked to you,” Anya said, smiling at Lexa’s glare as she sat down. “I couldn’t stand one more phone call where she talked about you.”

“You talked about me?” Clarke asked smugly.

“I complained.”

“About what?”

A chorus of laughter caused Lexa to blush. “I’ll kick you all out,” she hissed. “Anything I could think off,” she admitted sheepishly with a smile.

“See.” Lincoln leaned in seriously, like he was about to divulge a secret. “It may not be clear, but our little Lexa here, is a reverse snob.”

Lexa gasped in shock, while the rest laughed. “I am not.”

“You are, Lex,” Anya said. She turned to Clarke, taking on Lincoln’s serious tone. Clarke was unsure when she had been more thrilled to be having a conversation. “Lexa gets offended on behalf of all the little people. We didn’t have that much money growing up, especially when mom and dad started popping out babies of their own. So we weren’t too inclined to those with money.”

“Unless you were robbing them,” Ash said fairly. He had been watching Clarke closely while they had been talking.

Anya clicked her fingers. “Unless I was robbing them. But while we grew out of our prejudice, Lexa decided to cling to hers, even though she’s doing well enough herself to afford a two bedroom apartment by a harbour.”

Lexa was pouting with her arms crossed, and Clarke watched her for moment to see if she was actually offended, but her lips were slightly turned at the end and when she caught Clarke’s eye she flashed her a grin.

“So that’s why you didn’t like me?”

There was more laughter, and Lexa blushed again. “I wouldn’t say that,” she muttered. Her siblings laughed again, and Clarke was starting to get the feeling there was a joke she was missing out on.

//

Clarke was accosted by Lexa’s oldest brother to sit with him. The party was winding down, the Blake’s and Lincoln having already left. Anya was helping Lola get the twins ready to go back to the hotel where they were staying, which involved a lot of negotiating to get them to leave Lexa and, surprisingly, Raven, who had entered their good graces after confirming that her leg brace did indeed make her a Transformer.

Ash, who she learnt was also an artist, was kind and very fond of his little sister. She was looking at some of his art work on his phone and nearly dropped it when he asked her if she had a crush on Lexa.

“What?” she said, shooting a worried glare to where Lexa and Raven were talking.

“Do you like my sister?”

“You said crush.”

“I didn’t want to make you drop my phone.” He took it off her with a smile. “You don’t have to answer. And I won’t tell Lexa I asked. I’m just curious.” 

“I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it.” It was a lie. Clarke found herself thinking a lot about how she felt about the sailor who lived below her. She had concluded it couldn’t be classed as just friendship but wasn’t confident enough in herself to call it anything else. “I like being friends with her.”

“But?” The easy smile hadn’t left Ash’s face. Another glance confirmed Lexa wasn’t aware of them talking.

“I don’t want to lose that.”

“And you think you will?”

“I see Costia a lot.”

“Do you see her here?”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Lex and Costia were together for not very long, and then decided they were better off as friends. How good of friends someone is with my little sister is not something I want to know. But Costia isn’t something you should worry about. Look, I’m not pushing for an answer. And I’m sorry if I overstepped by asking. But it’s hard for me to not worry about her.”

“And I’m causing you to be worried?” Clarke didn’t want it to sound like an accusation, or like she was offended, but Lexa was too special for Clarke to ruin it by thinking about things.

She was relieved when Ash just smiled and squeezed her shoulder affectionately. “The opposite. I have five younger siblings, and the list of people I worry about is very extensive and keeps on growing. I like having help. There’s Octavia, and Roan, and Bellamy. And now you, I hope.”

“I’ll always look out for Lexa. No matter what our relationship is.”

“I believe you.” He laughed and shook his head. “I blame fatherhood for this protectiveness. And don’t tell Lexa I asked. She doesn’t like to be reminded she doesn’t need to carry the world by herself.”

//

They were finally gone. Ash and Lola went to their hotel, Raven had gone home, surprising Lexa with a goodbye and thanks that didn’t contain anything rude, and Anya had retired to bed, having to get up early to get to the airport.

“You don’t have to help,” Lexa told Clarke, who was throwing left over food and cups into a bag. “I’ve got this. Go on home. It’s late”

“I live a floor above. It’s hardly putting me back.”

“I’m really glad you guys came.”

“I’m glad you invited us.”

“Did Raven enjoy it?”

“She’s after both the Blake’s.”

Lexa laughed. “Anya will be heartbroken.”

“Your family’s great. Really, Lexa,” Clarke insisted when Lexa rolled her eyes. “They’re great.”

“I’m lucky.”

They cleared in silence for a moment, Lexa balancing plates into the sink. “I saw you talking to Ash,” Lexa said carefully, keeping her voice casual.

“Yeah,” Clarke said equally as carefully.

“I know what he’s like.”

“What’s he like?”

“You’re being coy.”

Clarke laughed. “He worries.”

“He’s always worried.”

“It’s not terrible,” Clarke tried to reason.

“No it’s not. Did he say anything I should be worried about?”

“No.”

“Do you want to finish off this whisky?”

“I had better get back.”

“I thought you were only a floor away?”

“Don’t drink and climb.”

Lexa frowned, but recovered and smiled. She opened the door for Clarke. “See you around, Griffin.”

Clarke felt brazen, and tipsy, and leant forward to kiss Lexa on the cheek, closer to the mouth than she would have had she not been brazen and tipsy. She stepped back and smiled to see Lexa blushing.

“Bye.”

Clarke had been proud of many of the exits she had made in her life, and she was especially proud of that one.

//

It was cold on her balcony, colder than autumn but not as cold as she believed winter should be, and Lexa enjoyed seeing her breath crystallising the foggy air.

Clarke couldn’t be seen from above the Christmas tree she was carrying as she walked towards the building. Lexa watched her struggle, grinning, before calling down to her.

“Do you need help?”

“No I was hoping I could struggle up two flights on my own.”

“Well if you’re sure.”

“Get the fuck down here, Woods.”

Lexa laughed and herself up and climbed through her window.

//

She stayed to help decorate, claiming that she had never done it before.

“Never?” Clarke asked, incredulous.

“Jewish people are less inclined to soil their carpet with pine needles.”

“No need to get tetchy.”

“Why is there so much tinsel?”

“Festivity. So any plans for Christmas?”

“Jewish people are less inclined to…”

Clarke aimed a mini angel at her. “I didn’t know you were Jewish, did I?” Lexa laughed. She handed her yet another line of tinsel. “Any plans for the holiday period?”

“I’m going to my families for the week. Yours?”

“Go home to my mothers.” Clarke glanced at Lexa when she didn’t let go of the tinsel, a deep frown suddenly on her face. “What?”

“Nothing. When do you go?”

“Friday.”

“For how long?”

“Three weeks.”

The frown deepened. “Oh.”

“What?”

“That’s a long time.”

Clarke smiled. “Will you miss me?”

“Maybe.”

“You’re totally going to miss me.”

“Just take this outrageous amount of glitter and put it on the giant inconvenience in your living room.”

//

If, hypothetically, Lexa was sitting on her balcony in the snow, it certainly wasn’t because Clarke was due back that day. She argued this as Clarke smirked up at her, having gotten out the taxi lugging more cases than she left with, telling her to go inside or she’ll get a cold.

“It’s brisk.”

“You have your hood up.”

“It’s a fashion statement.”

“Do you want to come to mine for dinner?”

“I have plans.”

“Oh.”

“But I can do breakfast.”

“Will Costia be gone?”

Lexa thought she heard bitterness in Clarke’s tone, but she was smiling and it hard to tell. Clarke went into the building and Lexa opened her door to wait for her.

“My plans aren’t with Costia.” She stepped back to let Clarke in, the cases left outside the door. “Why do you have so much stuff?”

“My mom’s generous.”

“Right.”

“Your plans aren’t with Costia?”

“No.”

“So breakfast?”

“Will you be snide about my love life?”

“Sorry.”

Lexa shrugged. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“You sound weird.”

“Just tired. I missed you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you have a good time?”

Clarke shrugged. “Christmas is always weird, without my dad. But it was nice. Did you?”

Lexa nodded. Clarke looked more than tired, her eyes lacked life and her face was pale. She stood at the doorway instead of entering, not smiling at Lexa, and when she did it wasn’t in her eyes.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Lexa pressed. Clarke just gave her a tired smile and a nod.

“I just need a nap. Will it be a four o’clock breakfast or will it be a normal human time?”

“How about ten?”

“Ten is good.”

Clarke picked up the bags and Lexa stepped forward to take one, helping her up the stairs to her apartment. She handed the bag back once Clarke had the door open, lingering awkwardly when Clarke didn’t invite her in.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” Lexa stepped back.

“See you then.”

Lexa didn’t want to leave. She wanted Clarke to tell her what was wrong, to understand why she seemed to be dismissive and inviting at the same time, to get rid of the image from months ago of Clarke sinking to the floor sobbing.

But Clarke seemed to be waiting for her to leave, so she just smiled again and turned around.

//

Lexa had been out late, and was tired, and wanted whoever was knocking on her door to stop. She was surprised when she opened it to find Raven, and even more surprised to find her looking sheepish instead of her usual confidence.

“Hey.” She rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly, “Can I come in for a sec?”

“Is Clarke not in?”

“No, she is. I’m heading up there in a moment. I just wanted to talk to you first.”

Lexa frowned, but stepped back to let Raven in, closing the door behind her.

“Do you want a drink or anything?”

“No, thanks. Look, I’ll be quick, I know Clarke has been a bit off recently.”

“She hasn’t…”

“Woods.” Raven cut her off with a humourless smile. “I know she has.”

Since Clarke had returned from her mother’s a month ago, her interactions with Lexa had been infrequent and bordering on awkward. They still had dinner sometimes, and occasionally breakfast if their schedules matched, but it was too cold for Lexa to accost Clarke from her balcony, and Clarke seemed in no mood for conversation in the hallways. Lexa couldn’t work out if something had happened, or if she’d done something, or if the underlying sadness she had already noticed in Clarke had finally spilled over.

“I just want to tell you, it isn’t to do with you,” Raven continued. “And I don’t want you to stop whatever it is you’ve got with her because you feel like she isn’t interested anymore.”

“What have I got with her?” Lexa asked, genuinely curious as even Lexa didn’t know anymore.

The condescending smile she got from Raven was a lot more in character. “That can is not something I’m gonna open. Just don’t give up on her, okay?”

“I’m not. I wasn’t going to. She’s sad, right?”

“Yeah,” Raven sighed.

“Why?”

“Not my place.”

“But telling me not to give up on her is?”

“Well you weren’t going to anyway, right, so that’s all good.” Raven glared, then sighed again. “You bring something back to her. You know she started painting again?”

“I didn’t know she stopped.”

“She had. But now she’s back to it. And Clarke doesn’t seem like Clarke unless she’s watching the world for its colours. And she’ll come back to us, eventually, we just need to be there while she’s gone.”

“I can do that.”

“Then obviously I had nothing to worry about.”

“You’re a good friend.”

“Really? Because I feel a pretty shitty one going behind her back like this. But Clarke’s more like Clarke now she has you.”

Lexa nodded, unsure of what to do with this information. Raven laughed and shook her head, opening the door.

“You’re both as bad as each other.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. See you around, Woods.”


	3. Chapter 3

The sun was setting, Bellamy was opening their fourth beer, and Lexa felt the familiar lightness accompanied by her friend and her boat. They rocked slightly in the small breeze, but it was lulling and peaceful, and Lexa smiled her gratefulness as Bellamy handed her the bottle.

“We should do this more often,” she proclaimed.

“You say that every time.”

“This time I really mean it. Let’s make it a bi-monthly thing.” She laughed suddenly, three beers bringing a pleasant lightness to her head, and Bellamy didn’t get the joke but laughed anyway.

“What’s so funny?”

“Clarke would have made a bi joke.”

Bellamy shook his head. “You’ve really got it, Lex.”

“She’s sad.”

“Yeah, but we knew that anyway, right? Underlying sadness, you said.”

“It’s not as underlying these days.”

“Have you tried talking to her?”

“Disgusting advice.”

“Communication is key to a blossoming relationship,” Bellamy said with a grin.

“We’re not a blossoming anything.”

“Right.”

“And look at you, one mildly successful date and you’re suddenly the love guru.”

“It was two mildly successful dates.”

“With the same girl?”

“Yep.”

He was smiling broadly, and Lexa couldn’t help but return it. “I’m proud. When do I get to meet her?”

“Never.”

“Mom’s going to want to meet her too.”

“Nope.”

“And Anya.”

“Not Anya,” Bellamy promised, “Never Anya.”

Lexa laughed, and they lapsed into silence brought by the beer and the waves. Finally Lexa spoke, so quietly Bellamy barely heard. “I don’t know what to do.”

They’d been friends for so long, being there for each other through for comings out and break ups and divorces. Bellamy knew that when Lexa was sad she got reckless and angry. He knew that she had a shaky moral compass but would always try to do the right thing. He knew that she loved deeply and well, but didn’t always let it show.

He knew that when she was unsure, or scared, she would pull into herself. Avoid the problem and would never be hurt. And now she was watching the sun with a furrowed brow, her hand holding the bottle was shaking, and his heart was being pulled by how small she suddenly seemed.

“What do you want to do?” he asked carefully.

Lexa shrugged. “Anything I say to her now will be lost. Whatever is going on won’t be helped by me. But what am I supposed to do, just wait it out?”

“Maybe.”

“Isn’t that shitty?”

“Maybe.”

“You’re no help.” Lexa smiled over at him. He smiled back and shrugged.

“You said Raven says you make her better?”

“She didn’t use the word better.”

“But more herself?”

“Apparently.”

“Then carry on doing that.”

“So your advice is just carry on as normal.”

“Seems like it.”

“No help,” she reiterated, but she smiled fondly at him, closing her eyes to the feeling of the waves and the smell of the water. “I’m going to see dad next week.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know whether to tell him.”

“About Clarke?”

“About Nathan. But also Clarke.”

“Worried he’ll give you the advice you don’t want to hear?”

“Are we talking about Nathan or Clarke?”

“Both.”

“Probably, yeah.”

“Stay away from Nathan.”

“He’ll use more expletives, but that will be the jist.”

“Lexa.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Finding out what happened won’t bring you peace.”

She waved her hand, “Let’s not do that now. More importantly, Clarke.”

“He’ll say go for it.”

“That’s because he’s an optimist.”

“Don’t say it like an insult.”

//

Clarke tiredly climbed the stairs after a longer day than she had hoped. It was getting harder to tell herself that being held behind at the office for extra work was worth the experience she was gaining and all the good she could do.

Her mother had been a lawyer, then a judge, then a governor, and Clarke was exhausted from merely being an intern.

Costia was hovering in Lexa’s doorway when Clarke arrived on the first floor, flicking through her phone. She looked up when she heard Clarke approached and smiled.

“Hey, Clarke,” she said. “How are you?”

“Fine. Lexa not in?”

“No. I just came by to feed her fish, but she’ll be back from visiting her dad any minute though, so I wanted to be here when she did.”

“She’s visiting her dad?”

Costia nodded, frowning. “She didn’t tell you.”

“We haven’t really been talking much recently.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Why do people keep asking me that?”

“Because you look like shit?” Costia smiled. She meant it as a joke, Clarke knew, but they also barely knew each other, having minimal interaction whenever their paths crossed. Clarke didn’t like her, and knew exactly why she didn’t like her, which made it even worse.

She glared, and Costia smiled guiltily.

“Lexa always feels like shit when she gets back.”

“I can imagine.”

“So we’ll probably watch a crappy movie and eat too much, do you want to join?”

“I don’t really fancy third wheeling.”

“You’re not the one who will be third wheel. Come on, I know Lexa will be happy if you came.”

“Look, Costia, this is really nice and all, but I don’t fancy being friends with my neighbour’s fuck buddy.” Costia’s smile fell and her eyes darkened. “So how about you guys keep it down and when we see each other on your slow walk of shame we don’t acknowledge that I know what you really travel all this way for.”

“Clarke!”

Clarke turned to see Lexa standing a few stairs down and glaring. Clarke ran her hand through her hair, took a breath, and walked away without acknowledging either of them.

//

Lexa knocked angrily. She resolved to keep knocking until Clarke answered and they could have out whatever was going on.

Clarke answered, looking as angry as Lexa felt, and Lexa pushed past Clarke and into the apartment. “What?”

“Seriously?”

“Do you have a problem?” Clarke slammed the door as crossed her arms

“You were mean yesterday, and rude, and you aren’t either of those things, so tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying.”

“You know I preferred it when you hated me. We should go back to that.”

Lexa glared at Clarke. Costia had tried to reassure her that what Clarke said didn’t bother her, and shouldn’t bother her, but she missed her neighbour and wanted her back.

“You were mean,” Lexa repeated.

Clarke rolled her eyes and laughed mockingly. “We aren’t seven, Lexa. I’m sorry I hurt your fuck buddy’s special little feelings.”

“Stop calling her that.”

“That’s what she is, right?”

“You never struck me as the kind to be judgemental.”

“I’m not being judgemental.”

“Sounds like it.”

“I’m not.”

“Then what are you doing, Clarke? Because this isn’t you.”

Clarke laughed again and it was starting to make Lexa’s skin crawl. “Because you know me so well?” she said quietly.

“I thought I did.”

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what?”

“This. You. You need to leave.”

Lexa took a step forward, but stopped abruptly when Clarke stepped back and hit the door. “You can talk to me, Clarke. About whatever. You know that, right?”

Clarke looked at her for a long moment. She opened her mouth like she was making to speak, then closed it again. She stepped to the side and away from the door. “Please leave,” she said. She avoided looking at Lexa as she walked, resigned, past her and out the apartment.

//

Lexa had been cold plenty of times. She knew if it was severe it could be dangerous, and she knew it could hurt.

But she didn’t know it was possible to be this cold and for it hurt this much.

She was shivering and trembling and struggling to climb the stairs. She’d pulled herself, in the dark and alone, from the freezing water and towards the only thing she felt like she needed.

The pain was starting to get worse and the shivering wasn’t stopping. She finally reached the door and leant her forehead against it. She tried to knock, but was unsure if it made any noise.

“Clarke,” she said, her voice sounding muffled to her ears. “Clarke.”

She tried to knock again. There was no answer, but she knew she was in, had heard her moving about before she left.

Everything hurt and Lexa felt like she would soon pass out.

“Clarke, please.” Lexa tried to knock again. It hurt to keep her eyes open and let them seep shut, leaning heavily against the door. Her voice became a whisper. “Clarke, I’m scared.”

She let the darkness come, and fell forward as what she was leaning on opened before her.

//

She woke sporadically. First there was noises, urgent words being said. But she was cold and hurting and the shaking wasn’t ceasing, so Lexa ignored them and let herself go under again.

Next she felt something warm against her face, and nuzzled into it, pressing her cheek closer to the source of heat. She felt less cold, but still aching, and when unconsciousness caught her again she didn’t feel so scared.

It was then warm, and dry, and whatever it was that had warmed her was still pressed against her cheek, so she got closer to it. Something hot was placed against her neck, and Lexa was sure she heard words but was too tired to focus. She tried to open her eyes, but it was too bright, and instead closed them and let herself drift away.

//

Clarke watched Lexa sleep from her place on the chair facing the couch. Her breathing had evened out and her colour returned, and her skin no longer felt cold to the touch.

She fought the urge to check again, touch her face, her hands, anything to make sure that Lexa was warm and safe and away from harm.

She had ignored the knocking, not in the mood for another argument or whatever it was she had with Lexa. But then she’d heard the words and Clarke had moved quicker than she thought she ever could.

_Clarke, I’m scared._

Clarke closed her eyes against the image of Lexa, pale and sodden and shaking, falling forward and having to catch her. She had pulled her inside, desperately calling her name to get her to wake. Once it became apparent she wasn’t, Clarke had hurriedly stripped her of her soaked clothes and pulled on her own dry hoodie and trousers on.

Lexa had woke, briefly, then, and Clarke had begged her to stay awake, to stay with her, but Lexa had just closed her eyes and sunk back into Clarke’s grip.

She’d wrapped her in a blanket and pulled her onto the couch, keeping her close and cradling her face. She’d watched as slowly, far too slowly, Lexa had regained colour and had stopped shivering so intensely and her breathing had levelled out and became easier.

When Lexa had woke again Clarke had hoped she would stay that way. She knelt next to her, both hands on face and neck. Her eyes had flickered, but stayed closed, and again she was gone.

Clarke pressed her hands into her eyes until she saw stars. She was angry, angry at Lexa for getting cold and wet in the middle of the night in February, when there was frost on the ground and the threat of snow. She was angry at herself for not being able to do more. She was angry at the whole damn world.

She studied Lexa again. Now that she had colour she looked like she was sleeping peacefully. She looked young. She looked beautiful.

Clarke hid her eyes. She had no right to think that.

Lexa groaned and Clarke snapped up, moving so she knelt by her again, touching her cheek gently and letting out a sigh of relief when she at last felt warm. Lexa moved into the touch, seeking the warmth as she had been doing, and finally opened her eyes. They found Clarke’s, looking down at her with such concern, and she had to audacity to smile.

“Hi,” she croaked.

Clarke was suddenly crying. She buried her face into Lexa’s neck and cried as arms encircled her, struggling slightly because they were stuck under the blanket. She laughed through the tears as Lexa’s arm flailed, not quite able to reach through the constriction no matter how hard she tried, and settled on resting on her sides.

Clarke pulled back and pressed her forehead to Lexa’s. All the anger and stress she’d felt for the past month seemed insignificant compared to the relief at seeing Lexa open her eyes.

“Hi,” she said finally, pulling back. “How do you feel?”

“A bit achy. But okay.”

“Are you still cold?”

“Not really.”

“I’m going to get you some tea.”

She stood quickly and moved to the kitchen, boiling the kettle and leaning on the counter as she waited. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, only moving again once the kettle boiled and she made the tea.

When she returned to the couch Lexa was sitting up, blanket still wrapped around her and knees tucked in. She jumped when Clarke knelt before her again, pulled from wherever her thoughts were, and smile gratefully when Clarke handed her the mug. She cupped it and held it close.

“That will help,” Clarke promised.

“Are you a doctor now?” Lexa teased. She took a sip, wincing at how hot it was. The steam felt nice on her face.

“My dad was.” Clarke remained kneeling, watching Lexa for any signs that was anything other than okay.

Lexa just nodded, her eyes fixed on Clarke. “Thank you,” she said finally.

Clarke shook her head, worried she was going to cry again. “If you still feel cold we’ll have to go to the hospital. I didn’t want to take you outside again, and an ambulance takes too long to get here, but if you’re still cold we’ll have to go.”

“I’ll be okay,” Lexa promised. “I feel okay.”

Clarke nodded. She focused on the mug in Lexa’s hands because that meant she didn’t have to look at her eyes. “What happened?” she asked.

“I fell in.”

Clarke closed her eyes briefly, rising so she could sit on the coffee table opposite Lexa. Her eyes didn’t leave the mug, but she could feel Lexa watching her.

“You do that a lot.”

“Clarke.”

Clarke looked up and found Lexa watching her, her expression guarded and unsure.

“I’m just saying…”

“Well don’t.”

They stared at each other. Clarke found herself wanting an argument, but Lexa was dishevelled and huddled in a blanket and wearing Clarke’s old Yale hoodie, and her want disappeared.

“Sorry,” she said. This time she didn’t waver from Lexa’s eyes.

“Me too.”

“So you fell in, and then what?”

Lexa shrugged. She sipped on her tea. “I came here,” she said quietly.

“Why?”

“Because I was scared.” She said it so simple that Clarke suddenly felt like crying again. “What time is it?”

“Erm. Half four.”

“Have you slept?”

“No.”

“You should sleep.”

“But if you…”

“I’m okay now.” Lexa smiled reassuringly. “You should sleep.”

The tiredness that Clarke had been holding off came at Lexa’s words. She nodded and looked towards her room, not wanting to go there at all. Lexa seemed to read her mind and shuffle across so she was leaning on the arm of the sofa, leaving the rest for Clarke to move sluggishly and lie on.

“You’ll wake me,” she yawned. “If anything is wrong, you’ll wake me.”

“I promise.”

Clarke still felt uneasy, but took the cushion Lexa handed to her and let the blanket be placed across them both. Lexa’s hand was placed on her ankle, her grip warm and reassuring, and Clarke drifted off.

//

Clarke sleeping held a lot more calmness and peace than Clarke did when she was awake. When she was awake she was talking, when she was talking she was passionate, but while she slept her forehead was smooth and her breathing even, and Lexa was content to lean her head against the side of the couch and watch.

She had tried to close her eyes herself, momentarily, but was forced into a vision of drowning and darkness and cold, and elected to stay awake instead.

Clarke’s legs had stretched out and was now resting on her lap, and she gripped Clarke’s ankle lightly, unsure whether it was to reassure Clarke that she was here, or remind herself that she was safe.

Clarke murmured in her sleep and drooled slightly. At one point she started, and Lexa thought she was about to wake, but instead she turned her head and sunk back again.

An alarm blaring from a phone of the coffee table nearly made Lexa fall of the sofa. She threw herself across Clarke’s legs in an attempt to shut it off before it woke her. A bleary grown indicated that she hadn’t been successful, and Clarke opened her eyes, watching with light amusement as Lexa tried to turn of the alarm.

“Swipe up,” she told her, her voice croaky with sleep. “It’s my work alarm.”

“Do you have to go?”

Clarke shook her head and sat up, swinging her legs off Lexa and placing her feet on the ground. “I’ll call in sick.” She took the phone that Lexa offered and went to the bedroom. She yawned and stretched and groaned while she walked, and Lexa turned away before it got weird.

“I’ll make coffee?” she offered.

Clarke hummed affirmative and closed the bedroom door. Lexa busied herself with the coffee machine, the one which she has taken three weeks to finally understand what all the buttons do, and glanced worriedly at the door when Clarke didn’t emerge.

“Clarke.” She knocked gently on the bedroom door. “Is everything okay?”

There was no answer. Then there was a sob, and Lexa pushed the door open to find Clarke slumped on the floor against the edge of her bed. It wasn’t the painful crying Lexa had accidently witnessed the once, it was quiet and deep and Lexa moved quickly so she sat next to Clarke, arm pressed against hers.

“You’re an idiot,” Clarke told her angrily.

“Excuse me?”

“A complete idiot. Why would you do that? How could you do that? Who goes sailing at night in winter and then falls in.” Clarke sniffed and looked up, fixing Lexa with a stare and seemingly requiring an answer. “Idiot,” she repeated.

“I’m sorry.”

“What if I hadn’t been here? What if you had no one to help you?”

“You were here. I’m fine.”

“You might not have been. Why do you seem so calm?”

“Because you were here.”

“Idiot.”

Clarke rested her forehead on her knees, pulling in deep breaths. The crying had stopped and now it seemed that anger remained.

“I’m sorry, Clarke. You’re right, I should have been careful.”

“You could have died,” Clarke said quietly. Lexa had sudden images of pulling dark water and shut her eyes.

“I know.”

Clarke’s gaze softened when she looked up. She wiped her tears away and stood, offering Lexa a hand. “I’ve got the day off. Did you make coffee?”

“It will be cold by now.”

“We’ll heat it up.”

“You can’t microwave coffee, Clarke, we’ve been over this.” Lexa allowed herself to be pulled up. “It ruins the flavour and reduces the enjoyment. Clarke, are you listening? Clarke.”

//

They drank coffee silently from opposite ends of the counter. Clarke seemed more composed now, less fragile, and sighed once it became apparent Lexa wasn’t going to stop looking at her.

“Do you mind?” she said.

“What?”

“Stop looking at me like I’m about to cry again.”

“Are you?”

“No.”

“I don’t know what to do when people cry.”

Clarke smiled. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“You really worried me.”

“Sorry.”

“Idiot.”

Lexa nodded her agreement. It was silent for a moment longer before she spoke. “Can we be friends again?” Clarke focused on her mug and didn’t answer. “As nice as it is to reminisce about how we used to dislike each other, I want you back. And I’m sorry.”

Clarke shook her head. “For what?”

“I don’t know. Whatever it is that’s stop you from talking to me.”

“It’s not you.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t talk to anyone.”

“That sounds healthy.”

“Lexa.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“What makes you think that something happened?” Lexa’s stare was unimpressed. Clarke sighed. “I usually get like this, around this time of year. I haven’t been able to snap out of it though.”

“Why?”

“Why am I like this, or not able to snap out of it?”

“Take your pick.”

Clarke sighed again. She took her and Lexa’s mugs and refilled them with coffee. “I had a boyfriend,” Clarke began, keeping her eyes on her drink. “Finn. He was nice and funny. A little cocky, a little reckless, didn’t think about consequences. But I loved him. We weren’t together long, about six months. One night when he was out with his friends and died.”

Lexa reached over and touched the back of Clarkes hand lightly. She turned it and wound their fingers. “What happened?” she asked gently.

“Drunk driver.” Lexa shook her head in disgust. Clarke laughed ruefully. “He was the drunk driver. Reckless. He killed himself and a family of three.” Clarke’s eyes had gone glassy again. She released Lexa’s hand to wipe at them. “That happened three weeks after my dad died.”

“Clarke.” Lexa didn’t know what to say.

“So don’t be an idiot,” Clarke said angrily. “I lost Finn because he was an idiot. I’m not losing you because of the same, do you understand?” Lexa nodded. “Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“Good.”

“I’m really sorry, Clarke. For everything that happened to you.”

Clarke angrily swept away tears again. Lexa placed down her mug and moved to stand in front of Clarke, taking her hands and stilling her. They stayed like that for a moment, Lexa holding Clarke’s hands and Clarke resigned to let the tears fall, before she moved her head so that it was pressed against Lexa’s cheek. Arms encircled her, and they waiting until the tears stopped.

“I want to be friends again, too.” Clarke pulled back.

“Good,” Lexa smiled.

“I’ll apologise to Costia, for what I said.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

“Okay.” Lexa smiled at her again. “So we have the day?” Clarke nodded. “What do you want to do?”

Clarke thought for a moment, before a small smile appeared. It was the smile she had when an idea was brewing, and Lexa was instantly concerned.

“Trust me?” she said.

“Not at all.”

Clarke grinned.

//

“I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you.”

“Relax.”

“It’s high.”

“It’s a rooftop.”

“It’s cold.”

“It’s winter.”

“I nearly died and now you’re trying to kill me again.”

“You have three coats on, don’t be so dramatic. Look at the view.”

Lexa huffed and burrowed herself further into her jacket. The view from the roof a building they had scaled was, admittedly, incredible. Almost made the cold and the height worth it.

“I used to see a shrink,” Clarke said quietly.

“Okay.”

“I think I’m going to go back for a bit.”

Lexa made the made the brave move of taking her hands from her pockets so she could link it with Clarke’s.

“Works stressing me out,” she continued.

“Why did you want to be a lawyer?”

Clarke shrugged. “Seemed like the right move. I was the daughter of a doctor and a judge. I could hardly become an artist. Anyway, I wanted to help people. People who had ran out of people to help them, who were wronged in some way.”

Lexa smiled. “That’s admirable.”

“I don’t get to do much helping. I get to do a lot of filing.”

“It will lead somewhere, though, right?”

Clarke sighed. She held Lexa’s hand tighter and admired the view. “Hope so.”

//

“Clarke apologised to me.”

Lexa glanced up at Costia, who was getting changed.

“She said she would.”

“It was three weeks ago.” Lexa shrugged. “She’s getting better, right?”

Lexa flopped back into the bed and stared at the ceiling. “I think so.”


	4. Chapter 4

Clarke was grinning. A full blown, infectious grin that had Lexa smiling back. Winter was still cold, but sitting on the balcony was now bearable and mildly pleasant if she had enough blankets and a warm drink.

She had acquired Clarke’s hoodie and this time had little intention of giving it back.

“What’s got you all chipper?” she called down as Clarke approached.

“I helped someone today.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep. I convinced my bosses to look into a case. They might be able to get an innocent woman cleared.”

“Good for you.” Clarke smiled at her. It was something that Lexa was seeing more often now. “Do you want to come round for dinner?”

“I can’t.”

“Better plans?”

“A date.”

“Oh.”

“A girl from the office. I’ve been putting her off but…” Clarke shrugged. “Rain check?”

“Of course. Have fun.”

“Thanks.”

Lexa kept the smile until Clarke had entered, then let it drop, a bitter taste in her mouth.

 //

“You’re dumb.”

“Shut up, Raven.”

“Sure, go out with the hot chick from reception. But don’t tell Lexa about it.”

“Shut up, Raven.”

Raven glared at her as she sipped her coffee. “Are you going to see her again?”

“Probably not.”

“You’re dumb.”

Clarke sighed. “I’m creating a boundary.”

“You’re creating a wall.”

“It’s for the best.”

"Best for who?"

"We still need time, Raven."

“Did you at least get laid?” Clarke smiled at her from above her mug. “That’s my girl.”

//

If she didn’t know better, Clarke would say Lexa was flustered. She emerged from her apartment as Clarke was coming home with two bin bags, thrusting them at her and demanded that she take them to the bins outside.

“What’s in them?” Clarke hoisted them both as best she could, not being as strong as Lexa.

“Rubbish.”

“That’s a lot.”

“There’s three more.”

“Are you scrubbing a crime scene?”

“May as well be.”

She ushered Clarke away, handing her one more when she returned and following her down with two of her own. When they returned to Lexa’s apartment it was cleaner than Clarke had ever seen it in the past seven months.

“You would make an excellent black ops cleaner,” Clarke complimented.

Lexa laughed, but it sounded distracted. “I’ll bear that in mind. Can you see anything amiss?”

“Amiss?”

“Or awry?”

“Nothing jumps out at me. Why are you cleaning like the Popes visiting?”

“It’s like you keep ignoring the fact I’m Jewish.”

Clarke snorted. “What’s with the power clean?”

“My mother’s visiting tomorrow.”

Clarke froze. Meeting Lexa’s mother, for some reason, seemed like a step. “Did you avoid telling me the same way you avoided it with Anya?”

“Nope. Surprise visit. Given me twenty-four hours to prepare. I think she likes to spring it on me so I don’t have enough time to get rid of anything incriminating.”

“Do you have anything incriminating?”

“Not anymore.”

Clarke tried to suppress a smile as Lexa scanned her apartment like she was looking for a clue. “Is that shelf still dusty?”

“I’ve dusted three times, don’t try and be funny.”

“Why does your carpet look a different colour?”

“Carpet cleaner. If you step on it with your shoes I’m going to kill you.”

“This is a lot of effort.”

“My mother raised six kids in a three bedroom house while keeping it dust and dirt free, her only help being an enthusiastic but clumsy sailor. If this is anything but spotless, I’ll get The Lecture.”

“The lecture?”

“With capitals. You’re laughing.”

Clarke tried to push down a grin, but failed. “It’s cute.”

Lexa grumbled. “Want to help me tackle the bathroom?”

“You’re not that cute.”

“It’s a pointless job because my brothers are just going to fuck it up again.”

“Your brothers are coming too?”

Lexa looked at Clarke, amused by the panic in her voice. She smiled at her. “Just the little ones. I get the feeling you don’t want to meet my family.”

“No, I do. Only if you want me to.”

“Already had the worse of them, may as well see the rest.”

“Who’s your favourite?”

“Anya. But don’t tell her.”

Clarke drew a zipper across her mouth. “When are they arriving?”

“I’ll get them from the train station at five. We’ll go for dinner then. Want to come?”

“Only if you want me-”

“I do,” Lexa cut her off with a smile. “I do. But only if you help me with the bathroom.”

“No.” Clarke was already walking from the apartment.

“You can just de-mould the shower.”

“That’s disgusting.”

Lexa grinned. “I’ll come get you at four,” she called as Clarke walked away.

//

Clarke and Lexa waiting at the train station, Lexa’s eyes darting from the board to the tracks.

“What?” she said as Clarke smirked at her.

“You’re buzzing.”

“Am not.”

“Practically vibrating.”

“Quiet.”

“You’re going to give yourself an aneurism if you will the train to arrive any faster.”

Lexa huffed, which just made Clarke laugh more.

“The trains late,” she muttered.

Clarke nudged her lightly. “It will be here.”

Finally the train arrived and Lexa stood on her tiptoes to see through the crowd. She’ll deny it later, but she let out a squeal when she saw her mother through the mass of people.

It was nice watching Lexa run to hug her mother, and highlighted the difference between her relationship to her family and Clarke’s. When she had arrived to her mother’s house at Christmas her mom had been out, having stuff to deal with, and Clarke had let herself in and helped herself to the lunch set out by the maid before her mother had returned hours later.

Clarke was incredible endeared by Lexa’s love for her family.

She lingered, slightly awkwardly, until Lexa seemed to remember she was there. Two blond boys came running and barrelled into Lexa, hugging her and shouting hello, before letting go and proceeding to chase each other.

“Mom,” Lexa said as they approached Clarke. “This is my neighbour, Clarke Griffin.”

If a look passed between the two of them at her name, then Clarke assumed she had imagined it, because she was suddenly getting pulled unto a hug by a women an inch smaller than her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Lexa talks about you incessantly.” Lexa coloured and shushed her mom, who just smiled. “Will you be joining us for dinner, Clarke?”

“If that’s okay, Mrs Woods?”

“Of course. And Maria is fine. No need to be formal,” she smiled.

Two blond streaks went past, but Maria’s hand shot out and she grabbed one of them by the collar, jarring the boy to a halt. Clarke was relieved to see the twins weren’t identical.

“What have I told you about running?” Maria smoothed the boy’s collar down.

“Only do it away from crime scenes?” he grinned.

Lexa wacked him playfully on the back of the head as Clarke smiled. “Cheeky.”

“Go get your brother.” Maria turned back to Clarke, but she was smiling widely. “Sorry about them.”

“How were they on the train?” Lexa asked, picking up her mother’s case.

“Nightmares.”

“They’re cute though.”

“Only reason I keep them around.” She laughed suddenly. “Although the two of them combined are easier than you. She was awful.” The last comment was directed at Clarke with a grin.

“Was she?”

“Mom,” Lexa groaned.

“Would you like to hear some stories?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“The girl said yes, Lexa. Now go track down your brothers while me and Clarke talk.”

//

They had dropped the luggage off at the hotel before heading to dinner. The journey was made up of Lexa’s mom telling Clarke stories, while Lexa tried to figure out if she could truly get away with matricide.

“And then by the time they found him his shoes had already been eaten by the dogs.” Her mom now told the stories with smiles, but there hadn’t been very many smiles while it happened.

“He started it,” grumbled Lexa.

Clarke, who hadn’t stopped grinning the entire time, raised an eyebrow. “What did he do?”

“Stole my granola bar.”

“Seriously?”

“It was almond, Clarke.”

“Oh and there also the time she broke three fish tanks at the aquarium.”

Lexa crossed her arms and waited for it to end.

//

The restaurant was fancy and Mrs Woods insisted she paid. She was kind, as all of Lexa’s family seemed to be, and sometimes smiled at Lexa like she knew a secret they didn’t.

Clarke tried hard to not be the person who was jealous of someone else’s family, but it got harder each time her mother squeezed Lexa’s hand for seemingly no other reason than to do it.

Her brothers, who had been introduced politely to Clarke but were ten and not interested in whatever conversation the adults were having unless it was at Lexa’s expense, mostly messed amongst themselves. Every now and again Aden would look at Clarke with what seemed like suspicion, and refused to smile back when she did.

When they dropped them back at the hotel Clarke received a hug and was made to promise that she would join them on their day out tomorrow, which made her look at Lexa, who responded by rolling her eyes and telling her to stop asking permission.

//

Clarke assumed the knock on her door was Lexa getting her for whatever day she’d planned with her family. Instead she found Aden, standing with his arms behind his back and looking serious.

“Hello, Aden,” Clarke said, confused.

“Hello, Clarke. May I come in?”

Clarke tried not to smile at the ten year old boy, who hadn’t quite managed to figure out how to keep the back of his hair sticking up, speaking formally and seriously.

“Sure.”

“This won’t take long.”

“Weren’t you at the hotel?”

“We came early to surprise Lexa with breakfast.”

“That’s nice.”

“It was lovely.” He turned and faced her seriously, and Clarke tried to quell the smile. He was tiny and adorable and speaking like a bank manager. “I want to talk to you about Lexa.”

“Okay.”

“I’m intuitive,” he told her. Clarke nodded, impressed at a ten year old knowing the word intuitive. “And I love her. We love her. And I need you to know how special she is.”

“I do know that.”

He lifted his head regally. “Do you?” Clarke pressed her fingers to her lips to stop herself from laughing.

“Yes.”

“Then you’re not allowed to hurt her.”

“Why would I hurt her?”

“I don’t know, Clarke.” He started to pace, hands still behind his back. “But Lexa has always been cagey about things in her life. Except for you. And I don’t know what that means, but I know it means something.” Clarke was torn between fond humour at the boy and concern about where the conversation was heading. “She’s special, Clarke,” he said earnestly.

“I know that, Aden. And I promise you I have no intention of ever doing anything that will hurt your sister.”

He studied her for a moment, before nodding in satisfaction. “She told me to tell you we’ll leave in about an hour.”

“Okay.”

“I thought I would take this opportunity to discuss this with you.”

“And I thoroughly enjoyed it, Aden.”

He didn’t smile. “This isn’t a joke.”

“Sorry.”

“She likes you.”

“Because she likes pretty?”

“Because she likes you.” He watched her for a moment longer, before nodding again and leaving without another word.

//

“I thought a trip to the zoo was for your brothers,” Clarke said as she walked next to Lexa, “But I’ve literally never seen you this excited.”

“Did you see the monkeys?”

“Yes, Lexa, I saw the monkeys.”

Clarke smiled fondly as Lexa hurried to where some red pandas were lounging on a tree. She went to follow but caught Aden’s eye.

“You know,” she said, walking next to him as he circled the meerkat compound, “You have perfected the kind of look it took me four years of law school to get right.”

“And what look is that?”

“The lawyers stare.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Do you always speak like you’re trying to sell insurance?”

Aden frowned, and when Clarke nudged him with her shoulder he started to grin and duck his head shyly. “I read a lot of books.”

“I can tell.”

“Peter thinks our potted plant is haunted.”

Peter was currently negotiating how to eat a toffee apple without making his hands sticky. Maria let him struggled for a moment before sighing and pointing at the stick. She sighed again when Lexa called her over, intent on telling her something the red panda did.

“Do you like zoos as much as Lexa does?”

“No one likes zoos as much as Lexa does.”

“Can we start over?”

“What do you mean?”

“Peter likes me because I gave him my bread roll at the restaurant. I feel like you’re going to be harder to win over.”

Aden grinned again. He had the same smile as his sister. “He does like bread. And I don’t dislike you.”

“You’re just being protective.”

Aden nodded. “Ash always looked after them. But then he moved out. And dad…” He trailed off and Clarke didn’t push. She nudged him lightly again when he looked at the ground and started walking again, giving him a smile.

“Now you’re looking after them.”

“Someone has to.”

“I hear mothers are very good at that,” Clarke said jokingly. Aden smiled and nodded.

“Mom keeps telling me to be a kid.”

“Treasure that advice because they soon change their mind.”

“She keeps trying to make me watch Spongebob Squarepants.”

“And what’s wrong with Spongebob Squarepants?”

“It doesn’t make sense.”

Clarke halted to a stop, causing Aden to stop too. “Okay, Aden, first of all…”

//

Maria let her daughter stare at the red pandas without moving for five minutes before she gently nudged her, telling her she needs to look at another animal quick.

“They’re not even moving, Lexa.”

As they walked Lexa’s eyes sought out Clarke, frowning when she saw her in deep conversation with her brother.

“What do you think they’re talking about?”

Maria smiled as she urged her daughter to look where she’s going and not at Clarke. “I don’t know. They look serious. Eyes front, Lexa. You’re started to drool.”

Lexa turned to glare at her mother, but it disappeared as soon as she saw the emu. It had been a good day when they had discovered Lexa’s love for the zoo and found a way to keep her quiet and occupied for hours.

“Is there anything I should know,” Maria said gently, not facing her daughter but keep an eye on her expression.

“About what?” Lexa said distractedly.

“About Clarke.”

That got her attention, and she snapped her head to her mother, before regaining composure and looking back at the emu. “What about her?”

“Lexa.”

“You know who she is, right?”

“Yes. I knew who she was even before you announced her last name so dramatically.”

“Oh.”

“It’s cute you think I don’t check up on the people you live with. Especially when you mention their name ten times whenever we talk.”

“Don’t exaggerate.”

“So, is there anything I should know?”

“No. Not really. Not yet.”

“Yet?”

“I’m…” Lexa had turned away from the animals and looked at her mother fully, alerting Maria that this was something serious. “I’m talking to Nathan.”

Maria sighed and closed her eyes. “Why are you doing that?”

“I’m going to find out why dad got life with no chance of getting out, when actual murderers get free from being polite to someone.”

“That’s not…”

“There’s a reason. There’s…”

“Lexa!” her mother said harshly. Lexa’s mouth snapped shut and she glared. “Your father did the crime he was convicted of.”

“But…”

“You have to leave it.”

“No.”

“Lexa.”

“Dad’s already said most of what you’re going to say to me.”

“You told your father about this?”

Lexa nodded. “I promised I wouldn’t keep things from you both, and I meant it. But I’m going to find out why Abby Griffin sentenced dad harshly.”

Maria shook her head. It was her own fault really, her and her husbands, for making their children so hard headed and stubborn. “This is what I get for telling you to never let anyone stop you from getting what you really want, isn’t it?”

Lexa smiled. “And for saying if there’s wrong I believed to be righted I should do it.”

“I knew I’d regret that one.”

She hugged her daughter, tightly and fiercely, ignoring the people around them looking confused. “I am so proud of you, for everything that you are,” she whispered into her hair. “And I know you think you’ve distracted me from the Clarke talk, but you haven’t.”

Lexa looked over to where Clarke was now with Aden and Peter, listening with a smile as Peter explained something emphatically while Aden rolled his eyes. She smiled wider when she caught Lexa’s eye, and Maria laughed at the struck expression on her daughters face.

//

Clarke received a hug from all three Woods’, Aden’s surprising her the most. When the boys has darted off to wait by the train with Lexa, Mrs Woods pulled Clarke in then held her by the shoulders at arms length.

“I’m very glad my daughter has you in her life,” she said, sounding so sincere it made Clarke’s heart hurt slightly.

“Me too.”

“I’m sure I’ll see you again, Clarke.”

She left with a smile, embracing her daughter tightly before cupping her face, kissing her on the forehead and saying something that made her blush and laugh. Lexa stood next to Clarke as they watched the train pull away.

“You okay?” Clarke nudged Lexa.

“Yeah. I miss them.”

“I miss them too, and I’ve just met them.”

Lexa laughed. She linked her hand with Clarke and pulled. “Let’s go home.”

//

“You’re wearing clothes?”

Costia smiled at Lexa, who had just exited the bathroom expecting to find her guest naked but thrown by her not. Costia’s eyes scanned her body, and she groaned.

“I wish you were.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever said those words.”

“Clarke just came by. She’s going grocery shopping and wanted to see if you wanted to go.”

“Oh.”

Costia laughed and shook her head. She picked up Lexa’s clothes from where they were scattered around the bedroom and through them at her. “Put something on. It’s harder for me to do this when you’re naked.”

“Do what?” Lexa pulled on the jumper and jeans tossed her way.

“You would rather walk around a grocery store with Clarke Griffin than have sex with me.”

“That’s not…” Lexa struggled for a moment to pull on her jeans, hopping on alternate legs. “I need vegetables.”

“Vegetables?”

“And soup.”

“Not the soup.”

“I feel like I’m being mocked.” She finally won the contest with the clothes. Costia was looking at her with humour and recognition.

“I don’t think we can do this anymore,” she said. “I think we need to stop.”

“Why?”

“Because you want to be with Clarke. And you can never be with Clarke if we’re doing this.” She gestured between them both. “And it’s been great for the past three years when neither of us had anything else serious going on, but when you would rather go look at the vegetable aisle than have sex, I think that’s a pretty heavy sign.”

“No, that’s not…”

“Lexa.” Costia held up a hand with a smile. “I’m not insulted. And I’m not hurt, or angry, or anything. We said we’d do this for as long as it took for anything else to come along. Now something else has come along, and maybe we do need to grow up. And that involves stopping this.”

Lexa felt suddenly very sad. “We’ll still be friends, though, right?”

Costia laughed. “Yes, I think we can find some things to do with each other that involve clothes. But for now, go and make sure Clarke hasn’t left yet and go buy your vegetable and soup.”

//

“Hey.” Clarke was surprised when her phone rang and it was Lexa. “What’s up?”

“I need vegetables.”

“Okay.”

“And soup.”

“Alright.”

“Have you left yet?”

“Aren’t you with Costia?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Not anymore.” Clarke wasn’t sure what to read into Lexa’s voice. “Are you still in your apartment?”

“Yeah.”

The door knocked and Clarke rolled her eyes. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Adorable,” Lexa corrected.

“So cheesy.”

“Open the door, Griffin."


	5. Chapter 5

Lexa was telling some story about boats, Clarke wasn’t sure what it was about but Lexa looked cute saying it, when she suddenly stopped dead in her tracks, staring ahead. Clarke followed her eyesight to see three men dressed in suits, the man in the front looking vaguely familiar. He waved mockingly at Lexa, who noticeable stiffened.

“Clarke.” She sounded like she was struggling to keep her voice steady. “Can you take the shopping inside?”

“No.” Clarke didn’t like the look of the man and especially the way he was looking at Lexa. “Lexa, what’s going on?”

“Please.”

“When someone is looking confident and flanked by two large men, I believe it’s best to stick together.”

“Nothing’s going to happen.”

The man was beckoning them now, looking overjoyed at Clarke’s presence. When it became clear they weren’t moving, he moved closer.

“Lexa.” He greeted her warmly, like they were friends, and Clarke felt the overwhelming urge to punch him. “How are you?”

“Not now.” She almost sounded like she was begging. Clarke looked sideways to see her looking frantic. “Not here.”

“Why not?” He looked at Clarke. “Don’t want an audience? I have news about the judge, the one that sent your dad to prison.”

“Nathan.” Lexa stepped forward, a warning, and Clarke gripped her arm to keep her back. “Stop.”

“Don’t you want to know why he got such a harsh sentence?” He still hadn’t taken his eyes from Clarke. She was getting that feeling she got when everyone else knew something was about to go bad, all except for her.

“Clarke.” Lexa turned away from Nathan and pulled on Clarke’s arm. “Please go inside.” She looked earnest, and scared, and it was Clarke’s presence that was doing it. “I’ll explain everything, I will, but I want you to hear it from me and not him. Please, go inside.”

Finally, Clarke relented. She took the bags from Lexa, shooting Nathan a final dirty look, and went inside. Lexa waited until she the door had closed before rounding on Nathan.

“What do you know?”

“That that would be considered a conflict of interests.” He looked too amused for Lexa’s liking. If it wasn’t for the two large men either side of him he’d be in the harbour by now.

“Tell me.”

“Judge Griffin received a substantial sum of money to put your father away.”

“She was bribed?”

“It would seem so.”

“By who?”

Nathan infuriatingly tapped the side of his nose. “The money you gave me doesn’t cover that.”

“I gave you what you asked for.”

“And I returned by telling you why your father got life. And I have.”

“But you know more?”

Another tap and Lexa was considering her chances against the men next to him. “Want I do know is that,” He gestured to the door Clarke had just gone through, “is one complicated mess.”

Lexa ignored him. “I can’t get you more money,” she said quietly.

“I know that. And I wouldn’t take it if you did. Lexa.” He went to put a hand on her shoulder, but Lexa pushed him off. “Don’t be like that. I’ve known you since you were this high.”

“And you were scum even then.”

Nathan nodded. “True. But let sleeping dogs lie, Lexa. Accept what’s happened. Enjoy your pretty girlfriend and your boat and the fact your father isn’t dead.”

//

Lexa leant against the door of her apartment, eyes closed, and slammed her head back. She opened them to find Clarke looking at her, curious and concerned, and Lexa felt a jolt of dread.

“Did you pre-heat the oven?”

Clarke looked suddenly angry, pinching her nose of sighing. “I know you did not just send me away from a grunge match, and then ask if pre-heated an oven.”

“I’m hungry and it…”

“Lexa!”

Lexa glanced over to see that Clarke had turned the over on. A slow smile broke out, and Clarke rolled her eyes.

“You’re more pliable when you’re fed.”

“Thank you.”

“Will you tell me what’s going on?”

“Haven’t you guessed by now, Clarke?” Lexa was tired of keeping this from her. “The judge. My father. Using him as stepping stone to bigger and better things. I’m going to get the fish from the fridge and let you have a think.”

Lexa was just putting it in the oven when she heard Clarke utter “fuck”, and half turned to see her staring at Lexa in shock.

“My mom,” Clarke said slowly. “She was the judge.” Lexa nodded morosely. “My mom sent your dad to prison.”

“There were some factors that happened in between, but yes,”

“Oh fuck.”

“Yes.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“Uh huh.”

“And you’ve known…”

“Since you moved in.”

Lexa watched her carefully, trying to gauge the anger levels, but she just looked upset. “Is that why you hated me?”

“Not really. Most of it was the prejudice that was explained extensively to you by my siblings. Some of it was to do with the fact you were pretty and, as we’ve established, I like pretty.”

“Oh.” Clarke went from sad to hurt. Lexa was on the lookout for anger. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Lexa shrugged. “I don’t really know. Should I have?””

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s a pretty big secret to keep.”

“Would it have changed anything?”

Clarke shook her head, deflated. “No.”

“I’m sorry I kept it from you.”

“And you think there’s some reason my mom was so harsh. You think she’s corrupt?”

Lexa sighed, unsure how to approach it. “I think there’s a lot we don’t know.”

“My mom has done good things,” Clarke said, almost to herself. Lexa nodded her agreement. Abby Griffin had changed a lot of things that needed to be changing, but it was hard to separate her as governor from the woman who changed Lexa’s life. “You should have told me.”

“I know. I just liked what we had. I didn’t want to complicate it.”

Clarke barked a laugh. “And you think this wasn’t already complicated?”

Lexa let out a breath in frustration. “This wasn’t how this dinner was supposed to go.”

“How was it supposed to go?”

“I was going to cook you dinner, and we’d open wine, and at the end of it I’d…”

“You’d what?”

“I’d kiss you.”

“Oh.” Clarke hadn’t been expecting that. “Is that why you brought a candle?”

“Yes, Clarke, that’s why I’d brought a candle. I was going to be brave, because I am brave, and then I would let things fall where they did, because…”

Clarke quieted her with a kiss. Lexa started, surprised by Clarke’s lips suddenly on hers, but recovered and kissing back.

“See,” Clarke said quietly, resting her forehead on Lexa’s. “I can be brave too.”

Lexa laughed and kissed her again, moving her hand from Clarke’s neck, to her hip, back again. Moaning as Clarke swiped her bottom lip with her tongue, then having to pull away again before it went too far.

“It was going to be chaste,” she said.

“Screw chaste.”

Clarke kissed her with fury, pushing her back until she hit the door, hands roaming until they reached under Lexa’s shirt, pressing firmly against her stomach until…

Lexa squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment.

“Did your stomach just rumble?” Clarke said in amusement.

Lexa nodded mournfully. “I really wanted that fish.”

Clarke laughed. She kissed her again, this time softly, and moved back so she was no longer pressed against Lexa.

“Then cook me some fish, sailor.”

//

They ate the fish, not talking about anything in particular, and then ended up on the couch, Clarke looking down at Lexa before bending to kiss her again.

“Clarke,” Lexa gasped, pushing Clarke’s shoulder and causing her move away from whatever wonderful thing she was doing to her neck. “Go on a date with me.”

Clarke smirked, and it sent Lexa’s blood racing. “Is this not what this is?”

“A proper one. One that doesn’t involve dramatic revelations, but does involve making out.” Clarke laughed. “Will you go on a date with me?”

“Yes.”

“You should know that I don’t put out on first dates or pre-first dates.” Lexa’s comment was greatly diminished by the moan when Clarke’s lips returned to her neck.

“Noted.”

“I mean it.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“God no.”

Clarke laughed. Then groaned when her phone rang.

“Don’t you dare,” Lexa hissed when Clarke sat up and reached into her pocket. She paled, and Lexa tried to sit up too but was hindered by Clarke on her lap.

“What’s wrong?”

Clarke climbed off her and answered the phone. She didn’t turn away from Lexa, but didn’t look at her either.

“Hi, mom.”

Lexa sunk back into the sofa, cursing the bad timing the world seemed to hold out for her. Clarke made a few agreeing noises, a few okays, and then hung up. Lexa looked across.

“What is it?”

“My mom’s coming for a visit tomorrow. Just for the night.”

“Fuck.” Lexa screwed up her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see Clarke looking so concerned. Then she sighed and sat up, swinging her feet onto the floor. “At least you get to see her.”

“Yeah.” Clarke approached her slowly. “You don’t have to see her.”

“A bit presumptuous of you, assuming I’d want to meet your family so soon.”

Clarke smiled. She sunk onto the sofa next to Lexa. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yes. Are you?”

“Can we postpone out date until Wednesday?”

“Yes.”

“Then yeah, Lexa, I’m going to be fine.”

//

“Are you going to go in, or stare at your building the whole time?”

Lexa glanced over to scowl at Bellamy. They were drinking beer on their boat moored on the harbour. Lexa was avoiding going inside, knowing that she might run into Clarke’s mother and not knowing what to do when she did.

“We’re doing our bi-monthly drink.”

Bellamy smirked and shook his head. “You can come stay at mine if you want.”

“Isn’t your girlfriend there?”

“Yes.”

“She doesn’t like me.”

Lexa hadn’t put much effort into getting to know Gina, partly because she was expecting her to last the same amount of time as Bellamy’s girlfriends usually do, but it had now been four months.

“She does after the double date,” Bellamy said.

“It wasn’t a double date.”

“Gina thought it was. She couldn’t stop laughing when I told her you weren’t a couple.”

“She kissed me.”

“My girlfriend?”

Lexa scowled. “No, Bellamy, not your girlfriend.”

“Well it’s not like it hasn’t happened before,” he muttered.

“That was high school, get over it. Clarke,” Lexa clarified, “Clarke kissed me.”

“You’re smiling.”

“Shut up.”

“It’s about time.”

“Yeah,” Lexa agreed, “And I told her about her mom.”

“How did she take it?”

“Well she still wants to go out with me.”

“Did you two…” He made a vague gesture with his hands.

“No. Her mom calling kind of killed the mood.”

“Suppose it would do. What are you going to do?”

“I’m thinking tell her it’s a surprise and take her to a seafood place, because that will be funny.”

“I meant…”

“I know what you meant.” Lexa sighed and took another beer. “I need to know why he got life.”

Bellamy nodded. “Well she’s in there if you want to ask.”

“That does not sound like good advice.”

Bellamy snorted. “You want advice, try Lincoln. You want to drink, that I can do.”

//

Lexa was floating in the harbour somewhere, drinking with Bellamy, and Clarke was trying to pretend like she was listening to whatever her mother was saying. Though they had their problems, especially when Clarke’s father died, Clarke did love her mother and was always glad to see her.

What she learnt from Lexa wasn’t going to change that, but Clarke wanted to understand. Lexa needed to understand, and didn’t seem like she was going to stop asking at any point.

“Clarke.”

“Huh.”

“You weren’t listening,” her mother said with a small smile, “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“Clarke.”

“Work’s stressful.”

Abby nodded. “I’m sure it is. But rewarding.”

“I suppose.”

“Is that what’s bothering you?”

“Nothing’s bothering me.”

“Clarke.”

“Can you stop saying my name like that?”

Abby looked at her levelly. Clarke focussed on the dinner they were having to avoid the knowing look her mother was so fond of.

“Is it a something or a someone?” Clarke sighed. She was hoping she wasn’t blushing. “Ah.” Abby leant back in her chair. “Who are they?”

“Mom.”

“You’ve always been good at hiding things, Clarke. But your emotions have always been easy to read. Who are they?”

She could ask, Clarke knew. Just ask why. But if there was something to hide her mother could easily not tell her the truth. But if there was a reason, an explanation her mother could give that would resolve what had gone from a potential relationship to this awkward and complicated mess.

Clarke made a decision. “My downstairs neighbour,” she said, after a beat. “Lexa Woods.”

“I thought you didn’t like your neighbour.”

“Things changed.” Clarke was waiting for a reaction, but Abby was just looking at her.

“What?” Abby frowned.

“You don’t know who she is?”

“Should I?”

“You sent her father to jail.”

Abby’s expression moved from confusion to realisation, then the politician in her took over and her face went blank. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“What did she tell you, Clarke?”

“I know what her dad did.”

“Killed someone.”

“It sounded a lot like defence. He was threatened. His family was threatened. Can you honestly say you would have done different?”

“It’s not about what I would have done. It’s about what happened.”

“Where you bribed?”

“What?”

“Did you get money?”

Abby sighed and pinched her nose. “What did she say?”

“Answer the question.”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“That sounds a lot like a yes.”

“Clarke, please.”

“He had six children.”

“I made a decision,” Abby defended herself. “Things needed to change. I knew I could do some good, I could make things better, for you and for everyone I represent.”

“So you were bribed.”

“It’s not that simple.”

Abby tried to reach over to take her daughter hand, but Clarke pulled away and stood up.

“Then explain it.”

Abby sighed. “I needed the support of some people if I wanted to stand a chance at becoming governor. To change things that would never have been changed if I hadn’t.”

“Still waiting to hear the case against bribery.”

“Call it what you want. But he did commit the crime.”

“Don’t do that.” Clarke took a step back as her mother rose as well. “You know as well as I do that that was overly harsh. She’s incredible, you know. Lexa. She’s kind and amazing and you’re part of the reason she’ll never see her father out of prison clothes again.”

“Clarke.”

“You can stay here tonight, but tomorrow I want you gone. Things are just starting with Lexa, things have a chance to be good, and I can’t listen to you try and defend yourself.”

Abby tried to call her back, but Clarke retreated into her room and slammed the door.

//

Clarke looked sheepish when Lexa opened the door. She was slightly hungover, after taking Bellamy up on his offer for drinking, but smiled when she saw Clarke.

“Hi,” she said, slightly confused as she assumed Clarke would be spending the day with her mother. “What’s up?”

“My mom’s gone.”

“Okay,” Lexa said slowly.

“She sent your dad away so she could gain support.”

Lexa perked up. “Whose support?”

“I don’t know.”

“You didn’t ask?”

“I was busy throwing her out,” Clarke snapped.

Clarke was still standing at the doorway, and Lexa took a breath. She stepped back to let Clarke in.

“Why did you do that?” she asked carefully.

“Because she was trying to defend herself.”

“She is a politician.”

Clarke crossed her arms and glared. Lexa took a chance and moved to her, running her hands down her forearms and taking her hands, pulling her arms apart. “Are you okay?” she asked, linking their hands.

“She said it was more complicated than just bribery. Who was the man, the one who told you my mom was bribed.”

“Nathan.”

“Who’s Nathan?”

“An old family friend.”

“Didn’t seem so friendly.”

“He has connections to certain people. We tried to get him to help with my dad’s case, but he just said it was pointless.”

“Why is he helping you?” Lexa hesitated, and Clarke started to grow suspicious. She pulled her hands from hers and stepped back. “Lexa. Why?”

“I paid him.”

“With what money?”

“Maybe I have savings, Clarke,”

“Do you?”

Lexa crossed her arms and glared. “Fine, I did some jobs for some people.”

“You sound like you’re in the mafia.”

Lexa rolled her eyes. “Don’t be dramatic.”

“What kind of jobs?”

“It doesn’t matter, it’s done now.”

“Is that why you went out sailing in the middle of the night? Why you sometimes came back so late?”

“Didn’t realise you were keeping checks on me.”

Clarke shook her head in disbelief. “I asked you to not be an idiot.”

“I’m looking for answers.”

“You’re looking too hard.”

“I don’t want to fight.”

“Then stop talking like you’re in a revenge movie.” Clarke was trying not to shout, but Lexa was looking far too calm for someone who just admitted to running shady jobs to pay someone for answers. “Maybe I should go. I don’t want to fight, either. And I have to go to work.”

Lexa nodded, unsure of the situation they were in. Clarke seemed to struggle for words for a moment, before nodding too and leaving.

//

“Waiting outside my workplace?” Clarke said, getting Lexa’s attention. She stood from the bench and smiled sheepishly. “Sounds a bit stalkery.”

“Prefer to call it surprising you.”

“I heard you were making a scene.”

“Slammed my hand on the desk and demand they find you. It was very dramatic.”

“I had to convince the receptionist I don’t want the police called.”

“How romantic.”

“What are you doing here, Lex?”

Lexa held up a paper bag. “A bit early for apology fish. So I brought you apology carrot cake.” She took a slice out, laughing when Clarke grimaced unsurely. “Kidding. I got you red velvet. Are you on a break?”

Clarke stepped forward and took the better option offered to her. “Not technically.”

“I also got caramel latte.”

“Keep talking.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“Want to skip out on work for an hour and eat cake in the park?”

“You make it sound so dangerous.”

//

“I don’t know how you can eat that rubbish.”

“Be quiet and eat your artificial red sugar, Clarke.”

“Is that green tea?”

“No need to sound so disgusted.”

//

“I got in trouble because of you.”

Lexa smiled down from her balcony, dropping her book. “Did you explain about the cake?”

“I tried to tell them it was red velvet.”

“And they wouldn’t listen?”

Clarke shook her head. “I think we should plan our date.”

“I’m going to break into Nathan’s house.”

It was said almost simultaneously, and Clarke sighed. “I was hoping for something more romantic.”

“Nothing like a bit of breaking and entering to get a relationship started.”

“This qualifies as you being an idiot.”

“Come up so we can talk about it.”

“It’s like you forget I’m a lawyer.”

“An intern.”

Clarke flipped Lexa off as she entered, hearing laughter as she stomped up the stairs.

“Go on then,” she said, flouncing into Lexa’s open apartment. “Convince me.”

“Nathan knows who gave your mom money. I’m going to find out.”

“By breaking into his house?”

“Yes.”

“You’re saying it like it’s a brilliant idea.”

“I am a little confused why you’re not praising my genius right now.”

“You think he’s just going to have it written down on his desk somewhere?”

“I think he’s meticulous with his research and if I can get his laptop I can find it easily.”

“Easily? I’ve seen you struggle on how to italicise.”

Lexa waved a hand dismissively. “Fine. Not easily. But it’s a good idea, right.”

“No.”

“I have a plan.”

“Oh god.”

“His house is on the north side of the harbour. He’s away next week. I break in, get the laptop, put it back before he even knows it’s gone.”

“That’s not an extensive plan.”

“I’ll iron out some details. I used to rob a lot of houses when I was younger.”

Clarke pinched the bridge of her nose. “You really can’t tell me that.”

“I mean, Anya was usually there, but still.”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“You’re just latching onto that?”

Clarke let out a long suffering sigh. “Can you pick locks?”

Lexa scoffed, almost insulted. “Not even going to dignify that. I might need to invest in a new kit, though,” she added thoughtfully.

“Don’t worry, you can use mine. Does he have security cameras? Any staff? We’ll have to check around the house before we even consider anything. What?” Lexa was staring at her, mouth slightly open. “I may have dabbled from time to time.”

“I’ve never been so attracted to you.” Lexa approached her slowly, and Clarke grinned, letting herself being backed into the door. Lexa’s hands moved to her waist, running down to her hips “You’ll help?” she said quietly, her eyes flickering down to Clarke’s lips.

“Judging by that plan I just heard you need it.”

Lexa pressed her body closer, resting her forehead against Clarke’s. “I think checking for security cameras sounds like an excellent idea for a first date.”

//

Clarke was pinned under Lexa, who was scattering open mouthed kisses on her neck, and was struggling to not gasp each time.

“I thought you didn’t put out on the first date,” she said, letting her head push back further into the pillow as Lexa moved to the other side of her neck.

“That was before you suggested we split up to look at different sides of the house and then hand me night vision goggles.” Lexa kissed her on the lips, a hand sneaking up her shirt and a leg pressed between her own.

“What did you think?” Clarke gasped out when Lexa pulled back to allow her to breath.

“You look really good in black.”

Clarke snorted in amusement. “What else?”

“You’re really going to help me?” Lexa looked down at her, face illuminated only slightly by the dull light from outside, neither having much inclination to separate and turn a light on once they had barged into her apartment.

Clarke cracked a small smile. “What can go wrong?”

“We get caught and you lose any hope of being a lawyer, my family has to deal with even more shit, and we potentially end up in jail.”

“You really need to work on your dirty talk.”

Clarke surged up to capture Lexa’s lips again, turning them around so she could straddle Lexa and sit up. Lexa’s hands clutched the back of her thighs, tightening as Clarke stripped herself of her shirt and bra. Lexa’s eyes were dark as they scanned Clarke’s body, then they moved to her eyes and Clarke nearly lost her breath. She was anything but shy, but Lexa was looking at her with tenderness and want, like she was revered, like she was…

“I love you.” Clarke didn’t know where it came from, or why she said it, but she did and Lexa’s eyes widened slightly with surprise, before a grin broke out. She bucked her hips so Clarke toppled forward, using hands either side of Lexa’s head to brace herself, sinking into the kiss Lexa gave her.

She pulled back momentarily so she could tell Clarke, earnestly, “I love you too,” before grabbing the back of Clarke’s neck to pull her into another deep kiss.

//

“Were you on the phone?”

Clarke jumped at Lexa’s sleepy voice coming from the pile of duvet left on her bed.

“You’re a light sleeper,” she commented, slowly closing the door. Lexa’s head peered from the covers but her eyes still looked blurry.

“It’s cold.”

“I’ll come warm you up now.”

Lexa hummed happily and Clarke climbed in next to her. “Were you on the phone?” she repeated, burying her head into Clarke’s neck.

“Yeah.” Clarke threaded her fingers through the ends of her hair. “Raven. Sometimes her leg hurts and she can’t always sleep.”

“Is she okay?”

“Yeah. Go back to sleep.”

Lexa didn’t argue, pressing her head further into Clarke and sighing contently. Clarke tried very hard not to laugh.


	6. Chapter 6

Her door was unlocked, and Lexa opened it slowly, feeling suddenly very on edge. She found Raven sitting at her kitchen table in front of a laptop, Clarke leaning over her shoulder.

“Hey, Lexa,” Raven nodded vaguely from where she was typing. Clarke looked up and beamed.

“Hey,” she said, “We let ourselves in.”

“I didn’t give you a key.” Lexa dropped her shopping on the counter.

“Testing my lock picking skills.” Clarke moved to Lexa, dropping her hands to her waist and leaning in for a kiss. Lexa shot a look in Raven’s direction, and Clarke just laughed. “I told her everything.”

“Everything?”

“It’s not that I don’t have faith in your hacking ability. I just think maybe we should have some sort of back up in case there’s not a step by step guide handy.”

“And while I’m glad you two have sorted your shit out, Clarke if you could back up slightly that would save my eyesight.”

Clarke stepped back so her hips weren’t pinning Lexa to the counter.

Lexa was frowning. “How much is everything?”

“She didn’t tell me what you’re looking for or why you’re doing it. Apparently that’s ‘not her place’” Raven added air quotes.

Clarke was looking slightly sheepish. “We’ll need her help, Lex.”

“Right.” Lexa’s eyed flickered to Raven’s brace, and could feel both pair of eyes on her narrow.

“Obviously I’m not going to be leaping any fences,” Raven snapped.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I’ll be at headquarters.”

“My apartment?”

“Yes.”

“Raven, look…”

Clarke cut her off by grabbing her arm. “We need her help,” she reiterated quietly, “Neither of us know anything about computers, and I don’t think he’ll label a file ‘who got Lexa’s dad locked up’. And we can trust her.”

Lexa sighed. “I know that. I was just thrown. Are you sure about this, Raven? You don’t even know what it’s about.”

“You’ll have to tell me eventually. But for now happy I’m just to be involved in criminal activity again.”

Lexa looked at Clarke. “Again?”

“We may have dabbled in hacking when we were in college.”

“You’re criminal past is very attractive.”

Raven coughed obnoxiously, and Clarke pulled back from kissing Lexa to glare at her. “Problem?”

“I thought you wanted to show Lexa what we found.”

“I did, but now she’s here I want to show her something different.”

Raven rolled her eyes while Clarke grinned proudly. “Come here, Woods.” Lexa kissed Clarke briefly to placate her, then joined Raven at the laptop. “I hacked his security system.”

“You did what now?”

“It was actually pretty easy.”

Lexa glanced over at Clarke, who was leaning against the counter. “Should you be condoning this?”

“Not at all.”

“Just checking. So what exactly does that mean,” Lexa addressed Raven again.

“I’m in control now.” Raven gestured to the screen, which showed video feeds of the inside of Nathan’s house. He sat at a desk in one of them. Raven sat back smugly.

//

Raven had left, promising to called Clarke to iron out details, and the two of them had grabbed a blanket and were curled together on the couch watching some documentary on tv. Clarke turned to say something to Lexa, only to find her staring at the wall with her brow furrowed.

“Hey.” She nudged her gently, pulling Lexa from her thoughts. “You good?”

“Yeah. Just thinking.”

“About.”

“Is Raven okay with this?”

“Illegal activity? Yeah, she loves it.”

“Clarke.”

“I didn’t even ask. She offered.”

Lexa frowned. “She offered?”

“When I told her were together, I just kind of kept talking. Slipped up about what we did on our first date.” Lexa smiled. “She thought it was sweet.”

“I agree.”

“I haven’t told her about your dad, or who Nathan is. But she wants to help you.”

“I knew she liked me.”

“Don’t tell her I said that.”

“So we’re together, huh?” Lexa grinned

“Well I thought… I kind of hoped… oh you’re a bitch.” Lexa started laughing, and Clarke grinned back. “I said I loved you. Didn’t that cement it?”

“I’ve seen you tell egg fried rice you loved it. That cemented nothing.”

Clarke shoved her playfully. “Is that all?” she asked gently. Lexa sighed and shifted so she could rest her head on Clarke’s shoulder.

“If I do find out who wanted my dad gone, then what do I do? Who do I go to? And what about your mother? She might get into trouble for this.”

Clarke was quiet, resting her head against Lexa’s, the show forgotten. “This isn’t about my mom,” she said carefully.

“It is. She did do good things. And better than that prick who she was running against.” Clarke smiled. “I don’t want this to cause any trouble for you.”

Clarke pressed a kiss into Lexa’s hair. “One thing at a time, maybe.”

“Maybe.”

They were quiet again, both enjoying the peace the other brought.

“Did you always want to be a sailor?” Clarke asked suddenly, making Lexa look up.

“Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering.”

“I always wanted to sail. Maybe not necessarily be a sailor. But I love it, and I love my boat, and Bellamy, and how it feels out there.”

Clarke smiled. “That’s nice.”

“You always wanted to be artist, right?”

Clarke lay her head down this time. “Yeah. Somehow accidently became a lawyer.”

“Hate when that happens.”

“I like it. I don’t love it. But I like it enough that I think I can be happy.”

Lexa smiled and pulled Clarke closer to her. She slipped a hand under her shirt, very glad she can actually do that now instead of just imagining it, and ran it along Clarke’s stomach. She smiled when Clarke closed her eyes and breathed in.

“Hopefully we don’t get caught and end up in prison then,” she said quietly in Clarke’s ear.

Clarke laughed and pulled Lexa so she landed on top of her. “I love it when you talk dirty.”

//

The small coms that Raven got them fit snugly in their ears. They were on a three way channel, and Raven had forbid them from saying anything profane.

“Lexa, is your fine ass in position?”

“Clarke!”

“Sorry Ray, forgot for a second there. It just slipped out.” There was a pause. “Like Lexa’s fine ass from her jeans last night.”

Lexa chuckled. She was waiting by the wall outside Nathan’s house. Raven had taken control of the cameras, telling them that the house was finally empty and, if Lexa was quick, she could get in and to the laptop in the study and the second floor. There was a stick which she was meant to plug in, and then Raven had said some technical words and Lexa had been distracted by Clarke.

Clarke’s job was backup, much to her chagrin, and ensuring Lexa had a route out of the house if anything went wrong.

“I’m here,” she said, “Is it safe to go in.”

“Yeah.” Raven’s voice was crackled. “Just be quick.”

“In and out.”

“Just like…”

“Clarke!”

Lexa boosted herself up to a window and slipped it open. Clarke had been devastated to not be able to use her lock picks, being slightly placated by Lexa promising they would rob a house together soon.

“Head down the hallway,” came Raven’s voice from the coms. “Second door on the left.”

The door of the study was locked, and Lexa knelt down.

“Are you picking a lock right now?” asked Clarke, sounding jealous.

“Yes.”

“You’re so lucky.”

Lexa waited until the door clicked open so she could find the laptop that holds information and to why her father was in prison. “I feel lucky.”

“I watch him put the laptop in the bottom desk draw a few days ago,” Raven said, “Check there.”

Lexa did, and found it in a case. She opened in, turning it on and plugging in the small stick that Raven had gave her.

“Now what?”

“I’ll take control of it. Give me a second.”

There was tapping and Lexa hunched over the laptop, watching as the screen flashed. A password typed itself, and then the desktop opened.

“What exactly do you do as a job, Raven?”

“I’m a mechanic.”

“You’re wasted.”

There was a dramatic sigh. “I know. Okay, I’m downloading all the files. Should take a few minutes. How we looking, Clarke?”

“Well I’m not there but I can tell you that Lexa’s looking…”

“Clarke,” Lexa cut her off with a smile. “We could go to prison, remember.”

“You’re fine, all clear.”

The computer made a noise that caused Lexa to step back suddenly and she heard Raven laugh.

“It’s not gonna explode.”

“Don’t trust technology.”

“Just take the stick and leave. I got all the files.”

She did just that, hopping down the window to find Clarke waiting below.

“Tonight I’m going…”

“Coms, Clarke.”

Clarke rolled her eyes even though Raven wasn’t there to appreciate it, turning off the earpiece. “Tonight I’m going to show you just how turned on this makes me.”

Lexa kissed her quickly and pulled her by the hand. “Can’t wait.”

//

“I don’t know what I’m looking for,” said Raven, showing them the computer, “so you’re probably best to look through it.”

There was organised files on the screen. Lexa let Clarke take a seat in front of it, given that Lexa rarely used a computer unless she was forced.

“Thank you,” Lexa said sincerely, “I really owe you one.”

Raven waved a hand with an easy smile. “You absolutely do and I won’t forget it. But I’m going to go now so you two can snoop and whatever else you plan on getting up to.”

Clarke grinned at her and winked. “Thanks, Ray.”

Once the door closed, Lexa crouched next to Clarke. “Anything?”

“Just looking.” She took a while to flick through files, searching Andrew Woods in emails and folder. Finally, Clarke opened something with a hum, and Lexa leant forward to read it.

Clarke scanned it first, Lexa taking the time to read it, and when she understood the jist of what it said she leant back with a sinking feeling in her heart.

“I don’t understand,” said Lexa quietly. “Nathan made it sound like my dad knew something. Someone wanted to keep him quiet.”

The email outlined the plan to get Abby Griffin elected into office. This included a successful result on a murder case.

“He was nothing.” Lexa’s voice was still quiet. She was close, but Clarke wasn’t sure how comfort would be received. “He was a stepping stone.”

//

Lexa sat on her bed, back against the wall and knees pulled up so her arms hooked around them. She always thought that when she got answers she’d feel happy, knowing why she was going to lose her father, but it just hurt.

The bedroom door opened but Lexa didn’t look up. “Hey.” Clarke leant uneasily on the doorframe. “How was Anya?”

“Annoyed I robbed a house without her.”

“Lex.”

“Angry I pulled this. She said she’s glad she knows, though.”

“And you?”

Lexa shrugged. Clarke moved forward and crawled onto the bed, kneeling so she was in front of Lexa. She placed her hands on her knees.

“You know,” Lexa said, finally looking at Clarke. “I am capable of separating you from your mother.”

“I know.”

“Do you? Because you look wary.” Lexa reached out and brushed her fingers across Clarke’s furrowed brow, down her nose and to her frowning lips. “I don’t know how I feel about this. But I am completely sure how I feel about you.”

“Still love?”

“Still love.”

“This could still change the ruling.”

“Maybe.”

Lexa released her knees so Clarke could crawl between them. She kissed her, then rested her head against her chest.

“I made food.” Clarke ran her fingers through Lexa’s hair. “I don’t suppose you want any.”

“Not really. Can we stay here for a bit?”

She kissed the top of her head. “I hate that I can’t help you.”

Lexa smiled. “You can’t help everyone and fix everything.”

“I hate the law.”

“No you don’t.” Clarke titled her head as Lexa looked up. “You glow when you paint,” Lexa told her, leaning back against the wall, “In your room, in your studio, I don’t believe anything can shine as bright as you when you paint. You’re happy. But then I see you come home after you’ve helped someone. After you’ve done something right, something you’re proud of. And you shine. You want to help everyone, and that is far from a bad quality, and I get that it hurts when you can’t.”

“I wish I could do something for you.”

“Clarke.” Lexa took her face in her hands, looked at her fiercely and earnestly, needing her to understand. “You are doing exactly what I need and what I want, just by being you and being here.”

//

Sleep was uneasy and infrequent. By the time Lexa finally drifted off, wrapped in a gently snoring Clarke, it was already early and she was woken soon after by her dreams. She was drowning, and when her father jumped in to help he drowned instead.

She was alone when she woke. Disorientated and a little put out that Clarke wasn’t still in bed, she pulled on clothes and left the bedroom to find Clarke standing in the centre of the kitchen holding her phone.

“Clarke.” She jumped at her name, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I made coffee.”

“It’s cold.”

“Heat it up.”

“Don’t be a monster.”

Clarke smiled slightly as Lexa poured away the cold coffee and began to make more, but it was distracted. “What’s wrong?”

“My mom just rang.”

“Oh?”

“She asked me to come and see her. Said she wants to make things right.”

“What things?”

“The Falklands War.” Lexa looked up, unimpressed at the sarcasm. “Your dad.”

Lexa was expressionless as she poured the coffee, annoying Clarke at how impossible she was to read.

“How?”

“She didn’t say. Said she’d explain everything later.”

“Are you going to go?”

“I don’t think she’d lie.” Lexa nodded. She handed Clarke coffee, still keeping her face blank. “Give me something, Lexa.” She kissed her. “That’s not what I meant.” It didn’t stop her from putting down the coffee and kissing her again.

“When do you have to go?”

“Not until after breakfast.”

“Good.”

//

She still had a key, and Clarke let herself into her old house. She found her mother in the living room, flicking through some files. She looked tired and stressed, and Clarke felt a stab of guilt for ignoring her.

“Clarke.” She stood up but made no move to approach. “I’m glad you came.” She had a sudden small smirk. “You know, some daughters would wear a scarf to cover up that.”

“What?”

Abby tapped the side of her neck. Clarke suddenly remembered Lexa being very enthusiastic over her neck that morning, and clapped a hand over where she was sure many marks were. She wondered if she should be so endeared by pettiness.

“So I take it you’re with Lexa Woods now?”

“Yes.” It came out defensively.

“I want to make this right, Clarke.”

“How?”

Abby gestured to the files. “I made a mistake. I was ambitious and believed I was doing the right thing, but it was still a mistake. I’m not asking you to forgive me, not yet. My actions ruined the life of a man, of a family, but I will do all I can to make it right. This is Andrew Woods’ case file. There was no need for him to be sentenced so harshly, and I believe I can prove that.”

“You’re going to fight your own ruling?”

“Yes.”

“But what about your support? Running for re-election?”

“Are you trying to talk me out of it?”

“No,” Clarke said quickly. “I just don’t understand why you would do this.”

“Because I like to think of myself as a good person. Because it’s the right thing to do. Because I don’t think you’ll ever speak to me again if Lexa Woods’s father died in prison.”

Clarke couldn’t tell for sure if that was true or not. “Why do you think that?”

“Because you’re very passionate about those you care about.”

“I love her.”

Abby smiled. “I thought so. If I can organise repeal, there is a chance his sentence will be lowered. It should have always been self-defence.”

“You can do that?”

“I might know people who can.”

“What should I tell her?”

“Have you told her you love her?”

“Yeah.”

“Then that’s the most important thing.” Abby reached out, and smiled when she cupped Clarke’s and she didn’t pull away. “I’m very proud of you.”

Clarke didn’t say anything. But she nodded with a smile.

//

The phone rang out for a moment before Lexa answered.

“Hey.”

She sounded sleepy and Clarke couldn’t help but grin. “Were you napping?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s it like to not have a real job?”

“I’m too tired to banter.”

“I’m not surprised. Thanks for my neck, by the way.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lexa sounded slightly more awake.

“I’m surprised you didn’t try and spell your name.”

“Couldn’t get the curves of the E. What did your mom say?”

“She’s going to try and get a repeal. If she does, there’s a chance, Lex.”

There was quiet on the other end. “I like the idea of a chance.”

“Me too.”

“Are you coming home?”

“Tomorrow. I’m going to stay and look through some stuff with my mom.”

“Okay. I’m going to call Raven, tell her everything.”

“Only if you want to.”

“She deserved to know.”

“I’ll be back tomorrow morning.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

//

“Is this all you do?”

Lexa, who sat on her boat drinking with Murphy, grinned at Clarke from where it was tied to the harbour.

“Sometime I untie it.”

Clarke hummed with a smile. “Hi, John.”

“Don’t talk to him.”

“Hi, Clarke.”

“Don’t talk to her.”

Murphy kicked out at her playfully. He gave Clarke what couldn’t be called a smile, but was very close.

“How’s Annabelle liking the room?”

He managed a grin at the mention of his daughter. “She’s loving it.”

“Don’t you have a job, unlike this one?”

Lexa scowled at her. “He’s got the day off. Date night. I’m babysitting, wanna come help? I mean,” She looked at Murphy with a frown. “If that’s okay?”

He shrugged. “Only if you promise not to defile my couch.”

“Your friends think we have a lot more sex than we actually have,” Clarke said.

“It’s all the hickeys.”

“I’d love to help you babysit.”

“Has there been any news?”

Clarke shook her head. “My mom said it will take time.” Her voice was softer, less teasing.

Lexa nodded. Her smile was lost until Murphy tried to kick her again and she got distracted.

//

Waiting at the station for Lexa’s family was less of a joyous experience than it was last time. Though Clarke now got to held Lexa’s hand, and she held it very tightly, the arrival of Lexa’s mother and brother was a tenser affair.

Her father’s retrial was the next day, and they were to drive up to attend it. Her mother was arriving with Ash. Lincoln would already be there, and the twins had been left at home. Anya couldn’t get the time off work, and Lexa swore she would be the first person to ring her when it was over.

Lexa’s hand was tight and sweating and not even the constant buffeting of the crowd could make Clarke let go.

Ash’s size meant he could be seen over the crowd. He managed a smile, and grinned even more when he saw their entwined hands.

Lexa let go to hug her family, but threaded her fingers back through Clarke’s

//

The sounds of Lexa talking quietly on the phone from the bedroom was dim. Clarke busied herself in the kitchen, not wanting to eavesdrop but not being able to stop herself from listening out, from making sure Lexa was okay. She was speaking to Anya, and small, wet laughter could be heard at whatever her sister was saying.

Lexa’s family was downstairs, staying the night in her apartment, and they were both in Clarke’s.

Finally, Clarke heard the sound of gently goodbyes, of the I love yous that still made her sad about the things she didn’t have but happy that Lexa did.

She waited for a moment before easing the door open and leaning against the doorway.

“Hey,” she said, “How’s Anya?”

“Happy. It’s late there, and she needs to sleep.”

She had tear tracks, a result of sharing the news with her sister, and Clarke crawled forward so she could kiss them.

“Three years,” Lexa reiterated, like she still couldn’t believe. “And then he’ll be out.”

The ruling had been set that it was self-defence. That Andrew Woods should have never been sentenced for life. He still had time to serve, and would serve it, but then he would come home.

Clarke nodded and kissed her. They lay down, Lexa resting her head against Clarke’s.

“Did I hear Ash?” she asked.

“He just wanted to let us know your mom was going to sleep. They’d come up for breakfast in the morning.”

“She looked tired.”

“It’s been a long day.”

Lexa nodded. Clarke kissed her again before closing her eyes.

“We have money now.” Again, Lexa’s voice was almost unbelieving. A substantial pay out, guilt money masked as compensation, and Lexa had called it, would be given to the Woods family. There was the battle between her pride and the knowledge of what the money would mean to them.

Clarke hummed her agreement with a smile.

“I’m going to buy a boat,” Lexa said with finality. Clarke pushed her nose into her neck and laughed, enjoying the vibrations as Lexa laughed back.

“Typical.”

“How many weeks of unused holiday have you amassed in the past four years?”

Clarke could feel exhaustion creeping up on her, Lexa’s unexpected question keeping it at bay. “I don’t know,” she said without opening her eyes.

“Can you check?”

“Why?” Clarke opened one eye to see Lexa smiling.

“Because sailing.”

“Sailing?”

“And painting.”

Clarke pushed herself up slightly. “What?”

“Let’s take a trip. I’ll sail and you’ll paint, and we’ll do that for as long as we’re able.”

“What?”

“You can’t keep painting the same old scenery. And you love your job too much to leave it. So take a break and we’ll go see all the places you’ve ever wanted to. Provided they’re by the coast,” she added with a smile.

“You’re serious?”

“As a life sentence.”

//

There was twelve weeks and four days holiday, which her company graciously let her round up to fifteen after a call from her mother which Clarke resented, slightly, but also allowed as her mother’s way of trying to be kind.

Lexa sailed and Clarke painted and both were unsure whether it was okay to be so happy.

//

Clarke stood in the Woods’ kitchen, the sounds of the crowd in the garden dim. For three years Mr Woods had refused to see Clarke, not in an unkind way but not wanting to meet the girl his daughter was beyond herself for in such circumstances. He had come home on a Friday to be greeted by his family, giving Clarke a hug and a nod of approval.

It was summer, hot and lazy, and Clarke would never stop being overwhelmed by the family that had grown into her own.

“Hey.” Lexa’s arms encircled her from behind, her lips pressed against her neck. “Taking an awfully long time to get that drink.”

“My mom rang.”

Lexa kissed her again, chuckling when Clarke squirmed as it tickled. “How’s the campaign going?”

“It’s looking like she’ll win again.”

“Are we still obligated to go to that thing next week?”

“You mean to the very important fund raiser for her campaign that’s hosted by my boss?”

“Yeah that.”

“Yes. We are.” Clarke turned in her arms, kissed her then gently urged her back. “Your brothers whistle when they see us kiss. It makes it weird.”

Lexa laughed, stepping back but not away. Outside there was music, later, she knew, to be replaced by the guitar she couldn’t convince Bellamy to not bring. Raven was busy trying to convince Anya to leave Roan while he laughed loudly next to them, and her mother had yet to let go of her father’s hand, like she was afraid he would be taken away again.

“You okay?” Clarke brushed the hair from Lexa’s eyes, letting her hand linger and smiling when Lexa kissed her palm.

“Very okay,” she promised. “Are you hiding?”

“It’s still overwhelming.”

“Three years and you’re still not used to my family?”

“I’m an only child and there’s a lot of them.”

“They love you very much.”

“Your mom keeps asking when we’re going to get married.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That you have to propose first.”

“Me? Why do I have to propose?”

Clarke laughed at her small pout. “I kissed you and said I love you first. Balls in your court, Woods.”

“I made you fish. None of this wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t made you fish,” she grinned. Then her eyes widened “Oh!”

“You’re going to make fish and then put a ring on it, aren’t you?”

“If I did would you say yes?”

“You’ll have to find out.”


End file.
